I  T^ 

THE  SUPERSCRIPTION 


AND  OTHER  VERSE 


BY 


GEORGE  ARNOLD  HINES,  S.  B. 


INDEX. 


The    Superscription 11 

The  Potent  Time 14 

Alma    Mater 15 

By  the  Couriers  of  the  Air 18 

April 23 

Love's   Surprise 24 

The  Golden  Age 26 

Epitome 36 

On  the  Hills 57 

An  Excursion 59 

In  Ways  Divine 61 

A  Song  of  Spring 63 

In  This  Manner 64 

Singers  of  Old 66 

On  the  Heart  of  the  Infinite 68 

Law    and    Love 69 

O  Ye  of  Little  Faith 70 

The    Masterpiece 71 

Consecrated 72 

A  Day  in  June 73 

Morning 75 

The  Dignity  of  Labor 76 

Why  do  I  Love  Thee? 79 

To  'H 80 

Midsummer 81 

Mightiest 82 

7 


My  Gift 83 

O  Not  How  with  Beloved  to  Part 84 

Longing 86 

Vain  Regrets 87 

The  Passing  Year 88 

Perennial 91 

Bucklin  Hill 93 

Reminiscence 96 

Suggested 99 

Vermont 101 

Bennington 103 

The  Duty  of  the  Hour 105 

Requiem 106 

Where  the  Wood  and  Waters  Bide 108 

Uther  to  Igraine Ill 

A  Soft  Answer 112 

Strength  and  Weakness 113 

The  Mystic  Web 115 

Credo 117 

Sonnets : 

To  a  Water  Lily 121 

To  One  we  Loved 122 

A  Birthday 123 

Flowers  of  Condolence    ...          124 

To  William  Cullen  Bryant 125 

To  His  Majesty — R.  A.  B 126 

Faint  Heart 127 

Italy         128 

Vive  la  Republique 129 

As  it  is  in  Nature 130 

Lake  Spofford 131 

Twenty-one 132 

8 


PAGE 

To  a  Friend  Afar 133 

The  Guest 134 

Departed 135 

In   Retrospect 136 

On  Public  Occasions: 

At  the  Memorial  Service,  May  30,  1885     ....  139 

Hymn,  Rededication  Universalist  Church  .     .     .     .  142 

At  Funeral  Service  for  General  Grant 144 

At  the  Dedication  of  the  Soldiers'  Monument     .     .  147 

Hymn,  Dedication  of  the  Soldiers'  Monument     .     .  153 

Hymn,  Dedication  of  the  Brooks  Library     .     .     .  154 

Columbus 156 

A  Pilgrimage 159 

Evening  Hymn 164 


I  sing  but  in  a  minor  strain 

With  longing  far  beyond  my  reach, 

And  yet  I  feel  'tis  surely  gain 

When  thought  in  measure  strives  to  teach. 

And  if  but  circle  small  and  near 
Shall  glean  of  truth  in  aught  I  bring, 
'Tis  better  thus,  in  narrow  sphere, 
Than  with  the  longing  ne'er  to  sing. 


THE  SUPERSCRIPTION. 


When  God  His  image  touched  with  fire 
To  make  His  best  creation  strong, 
One  rarest  gift  from  heaven's  desire 
Was  soul  endowed  with  love  of  song. 

Man  hath  an  ideal  for  his  love, 
Thus  seeks  by  inspiration's  light 
For  strains  to  lift  the  soul  above, 
Even  almost  scale  celestial  height. 


O  songs  of  the  ages !  pure  breath  of  all  time, 
Born  of  man's  longing  and  with  mission  sublime, 
To  broaden  and  deepen  the  channels  of  life, 
And  sweeten  what  else  had  been  bitterer  strife. 


Rapt  song  of  the  lover,  what  tenderness  rare, 
Love  song  of  the  mother,  half  playful,  half  prayer, 
Great  song  of  the  nation  triumphantly  pealed, 
O  dirge  when  our  dearest  to  earth  we  must  yield. 

Blest  song  of  devotion  and  anthem  of  praise, 
O  sweet  song  of  childhood !  life's  halcyon  days, 
Quaint  song  of  the  aged  with  quaver  of  years, 
Sad  song  of  the  weary  full  freighted  with  tears. 

11 


Blythe  song  of  the  maiden,  a  waft  from  a  shrine, 
Strong  voice  of  one  gifted  with  song  power  divine, 
O  unwritten  music  in  soul  clear  and  true 
Whose  harmony,  silent,  refreshes  like  dew. 

What  charm  in  response  to  a  masterful  sweep 
As  the  tense,  vibrant  strands  melodious  leap, 
Or  the  pipe's  pealing  tones  the  silences  fill — 
When  the  horn's  mellow  notes  the  far  spaces  thrill. 

And  what  moving  appeal,  to  heart  and  to  mind, 
When  the  favored  of  song  in  effort  combined 
Interpret  with  feeling — each  specialized  part — 
An  immortal  theme  by  a  master  in  art. 


And  thou,  O  great  Nature !  with  thy  varying  lays, 
From  the  birds  with  their  cheery  harmonious  phrase 
To  the  chant  of  the  torrent's  tumultuous  flow, 
Or  the  voice  of  the  brooklet  in  murmurings  low. 

From  the  rush  of  the  tempest  in  awe  stirring  sweep 
To  the  patter  of  drops  when  the  gentler  clouds  weep, 
Or  from  spring's  tuneful  note  by  the  marge  of  the  pool 
To  the  tremulous  chirp  in  the  autumn  nights  cool. 

From  the  plaint  of  the  forest  when  stirred  by  the  breeze 
To  the  break  on  the  shore  of  the  weltering  seas, 
Or  the  chime  of  the  rills  when  stern  winter's  array 
Dissolves  'neath  the  glow  of  more  genial  sway. 

12 


From  the  stir  of  the  dawn  to  the  voices  of  night, 
Those  mysterious  breathings  that  thrill  with  delight, 
Or  the  multiplied  joy  when  all  blending  in  one 
Sweet,  isolate  tones  have  to  harmony  won. 

From  the  drowse-lulling  hums  in  summer's  white  heat 
To  the  thunderous  tones  when  the  elements  meet, 
Or  the  sigh  of  the  zephyr  when  the  wild  flowers  nod — 
All  tell  of  the  love  in  the  heart  of  our  God. 


13 


THE  POTENT  TIME. 

We  cite  the  great  deeds  of  our  heroes 

Where  duty  in  death's  grasp  was  done; 

We  carve  the  grand  records  in  marble, 
With  bronze  tell  of  victories  won : 

They  are  writ  too  on  hearts  that  are  loyal 
To  those  pleas  for  life's  uplifting  way 

That  were  offered  in  blood  and  with  treasure, 
Making  vital  the  best  of  today. 

'Tis  well  we  give  thus  of  our  honor, 

Else  how  prone  would  be  life  in  its  shame ; 

What  unfathomed  deep  of  abjection ! 
No  crown  for  an  immortal  name — 

Yet  peace  hath  its  dutiful  warfare, 

Hath  brave  spoil  from  great  victories  won, 

And  promise  of  fairer  tomorrow 
If  the  work  for  today  be  well  done. 

'T  will  be  keynote  for  grandest  achievement 
In  the  field  of  this  measureless  time, 

When  men  shall  awake  to  discover 
That  now  is  eternity's  prime. 

O  give  heed  to  the  call  of  the  present ! 

Stand  for  truth  in  the  life  of  today ! 
And  above  the  past's  glorified  splendor 

See  a  dawn  of  transcendent  array. 

14 


ALMA  MATER. 


Great  Mother  benign !  with  most  opulent  share 

In  culture  and  training  of  man  who  is  heir 

To  a  universe  filled  with  glorious  light, 

And  who  comes  to  his  own  through  passing  of  night, 

Each  year  from  thy  presence  thy  sons  take  their  way, 
In  vigor  of  youth  and  equipped  for  the  fray, 
To  win  from  the  future  a  place  and  a  name 
In  earth's  field  of  action — ay !  temple  of  fame. 

O  springtime  of  life !  when  we  build  in  the  air 

Our  castles  of  fancy,  surpassingly  fair, 

Though  baseless  beneath,  merest  figments  of  brain, 

Not  figured  to  bear  stern  realities'  strain. 

We  elders  recall  them  bright  garnished  with  hope, 
And  how  to  sustain  them  at  first  we  did  cope 
With  the  grim,  stubborn  facts  that  thwarted  the  way, 
And  soon  taught  the  lesson  that  life  is  not  play. 

Yet  sometimes  they  have,  like  a  towering  spire, 
An  ideal  high  that  can  lift  from  the  mire 
Of  earthy  perverseness  o'er-confident  youth, 
And  set  its  face  sunward  toward  vision  of  truth. 


15 


'Tis  story  as  old  as  historical  man 

How  we  make  proposals  and  specially  plan, 

Yet  the  Great  Disposer  still  shapes  all  the  ends 

Though  on  our  rough  hewing  much  surely  depends. 

For  we  are  not  creatures  of  blind  circumstance, 
Nor  do  we  believe  in  the  doctrine  of  chance, 
For  the  reflex  divine  is  ours  to  attain 
If  goal  of  high-calling  we  keep  to  the  main. 

To  those  on  thy  threshold  who  look  with  delight 
On  the  promise  so  fair  before  their  young  sight, 
We  give  a  Godspeed,  and  a  fraternal  cheer 
As  into  the  future  they  boldly  shall  steer. 

Their  morn  tints  the  heights  of  an  ever  fraught  time, 
Where  treasure  awaits  those  who  patiently  climb 
Erect  'mid  the  throng  whose  buffeting  strife 
Makes  disciplines  needful  to  broaden  out  life. 

'Tis  theirs  to  wrest  secrets  from  sun-jewelled  space, 
To  rear  from  the  dust  grand  creations  of  grace, 
And  the  great  unseen  with  activities  fill, 
Earth's  mightiest  forces  subdue  to  their  will: 

To  explore  newer  realms  in  letters  and  art, 
In  cause  of  pure  justice  to  take  larger  part, 
Lift  the  sweet  boon  of  healing  to  ideal  height, 
Help  gifts  of  the  spirit  to  seek  whiter  light. 


16 


May  purposeful  industry  give  each  a  crown, 

Grand  purpose,  with  courage  to  front  adverse  frown, 

For  integrity's  path  is  foe  beset  way 

And  the  soul  in  its  might  must  oft  stand  at  bay. 

Not  all  can  attain  unto  supremest  place 
Or  win  grandest  prize  in  the  masterful  race, 
But  if  in  his  field  each  hath  faithfully  wrought 
Thy  smile  with  approval  will  surely  be  fraught. 

As  parting  each  turns  to  some  dutiful  round, 
In  earnest  to  face  life's  great  problems  profound, 
May  thought  of  the  Mater  e'er  lighten  the  way 
As  forward  they  strive  to  make  brighter  their  day. 

Great  Mother  benign !  O  how  blest  is  thy  share 

In  culture  and  training  of  man  who  is  heir 

To  a  universe  filled  with  glorious  light, 

And  who  comes  to  his  own  through  passing  of  night. 


17 


BY  THE  COURIERS  OF  THE  AIR. 


Can  you  tell  me,  winds  of  Winter, 
Of  the  mighty  host  at  rest? 

Can  you  tell  me,  is  it  certain 
That  the  past  was  for  the  best? 

Can  you  tell  me,  winds  of  Springtime, 

Of  the  present  we  are  in? 
Can  you  tell  me,  is  it  certain 

'Tis  the  best  that  e'er  has  been? 

Can  you  tell  me,  winds  of  Summer, 
What  the  future  hath  in  store  ? 

Can  you  tell  me,  is  it  certain 
'Twill  be  better  than  before? 

Can  you  tell  me,  winds  of  Autumn, 
If  the  Lord  reigns  over  all? 

In  the  vastness  of  creation 

Doth  he  note  both  great  and  small? 

As  I  hoping,  listen,  listen, 

That  the  messengers  of  air 
May  bring  words  of  peace  and  comfort, 

Cheering  words  with  promise  fair, 


18 


Lo!  the  winds  of  Winter  answer, 
Rushing  o'er  earth's  mantle  white, 

"Out  through  many  tribulations 
Man  emerged  into  the  light. 

"Out  from  ignorance  the  densest 

Slowly  crept  into  the  glow, 
Often  overwhelmed  with  darkness 

Sinking  back  again  most  low; 

"But  the  truth  was  e'er  before  him 

As  a  beacon  night  and  day, 
Till  he  through  its  constant  guiding 

Sought  for  life  a  better  way. 

"Strove  the  more  to  be  uplifted, 

Seemed  more  earnest  for  the  right, 

As  he  struggled  mid  time's  surges 
Toward  the  ever  growing  light — 

"And  in  answer  to  the  question, 

The  result  must  be  the  test — 
Though  the  way  was  dark  and  blood  stained 

Yes,  the  past  was  for  the  best." 

And  the  winds  of  Springtime  answer, 
Whirling  fresh  o'er  wood  and  field, 

"Yes,  the  present  is  the  better, 
Truth  hath  now  a  greater  yield. 


19 


"Still  the  course  of  life  is  upward 

And  the  lapses  fewer  are, 
Greater  wisdom,  gentler  manners 

Are  prevailing  near  and  far. 

"And  humanity  is  quickened 

As  it  ne'er  has  been  before, 
Builds  a  refuge  for  misfortune, 

To  the  needy  opes  the  door. 

"Eager  seeks  for  larger  knowledge, 
Spreads  love's  message  o'er  the  earth, 

Has  for  life  more  clear  conception 
Of  its  dignity  and  worth. 

"And  though  far  from  what  life  may  be 
One  can  see  the  progress  made, 

As  he  scans  the  changeful  record 
With  its  page  of  light  and  shade." 

And  the  winds  of  Summer  answer 
With  the  sweetness  Summer  lends, 

"If  the  future  shall  be  better 
It  on  human  lives  depends. 

"Whether  they  are  pure  and  humble, 
Whether  they  are  strong  and  bright, 

Filled  with  higher  aspiration 

For  the  truth  and  for  the  right: 


20 


"Filled  with  charity  that  suffers, 
Sweet  with  patience  born  of  hope, 

Giving  aid  to  weaker  brother 
If  he  falters  on  life's  slope. 

"Putting  forth  their  best  endeavors 
As  they  trace  the  onward  way, 

Looking  toward  a  larger  future 
In  the  light  of  fairer  day. 

"This  the  watchword  to  be  written 
On  each  heart  as  graven  gem, 

'As  ye  would  that  men  should  use  you, 
Do  you  even  so  to  them.' ' 

And  the  winds  of  Autumn  answer 

In  a  solemn  monotone, 
"Yes,  the  Lord  Jehovah  reigneth 

From  His  all  embracing  throne. 

"One  can  see  His  mighty  power 
In  the  cycling  systems  vast, 

In  the  painting  of  a  flower, 
And  the  river  rushing  fast; 

"In  the  changing  of  the  seasons, 

And  the  tracing  of  a  line, 
In  each  atom  of  creation 

See  the  touch  of  hand  divine ; 


21 


"In  each  mortal's  best  affections, 
And  in  soul  that's  pure  and  clear, 

In  each  attribute  of  wisdom 
Yes,  the  heart  of  God  is  near: 

"In  the  starlit  dome  of  splendor, 
In  great  nature's  lightest  call 

Lo!  the  hand  of  God  appeareth, 
And  He  reigneth  Lord  in  all." 


APRIL. 

I  hear  the  bluebird's  merry  trills, 

The  early  robin's  carol  low, 
And  music  of  the  swelling  rills 

As  earth's  brown  spaces  larger  grow. 

All  heralds  of  the  change  at  hand, 

For  winter's  grasp  is  faint  and  weak — 

A  milder  sway  now  rules  the  land, 
Bids  hidden  things  the  light  to  seek. 

The  sun  gives  forth  more  fervid  ray, 

Now  vernal  showers  come  plashing  down, 

With  smiles  and  tears,  her  wonted  way, 
Doth  nature  move  toward  promised  crown. 

And  in  the  favored,  sun-kissed  nook, 
Upon  the  seeming  sterile  bough, 

As  a  reward  for  eager  look 

The  promise  can  be  sighted  now. 

O  many  rounds  since  time  began 

Hath  spring  its  cheering  promise  brought, 
And  many  more  will  time  yet  span 

When  spring  with  promise  will  be  fraught. 


23 


LOVE'S  SURPRISE. 


We  walked  with  summer's  joy  akin, 
And  side  by  side,  yet  still  apart, 

For  though  my  hope  was  high  to  win 
As  yet  I  had  not  seen  her  heart. 

Her  eyes  soft-veiled  my  quest  denied, 
Her  mood  all  happy,  yet  most  coy, 

Was  proof  'gainst  all  the  wiles  I  tried 
To  find  for  hope  undoubting  joy. 

O  sweet  was  she  and  dainty  fair — 
I  envied  even  the  breeze  that  fanned 

The  truant  tendrils  of  her  hair 

That  oft  with  longing  gaze  I  scanned. 

All  nature  smiled  'neath  kindly  ray, 

While  life's  bright  morn  its  magic  shed 

On  all  our  shining,  flower  decked  way, 
And  fast  the  rosy  moments  sped. 

The  air  was  filled  with  fragrant  charm 
As  slow  we  paced  where  fancy  willed, 

And  all  unbroken  was  the  calm 
Save  as  the  songster  gaily  trilled. 


24 


And  oft,  yet  all  in  vain  I  strove 

That  she,  unguarded,  might  betray 

The  secret  of  love's  treasure  trove 
If  chance  it  in  her  bosom  lay. 

We  paused  near  wayside  bloom  to  rest, 
She  plucked  a  flower  that  lightly  swayed, 

And  to  her  lips  she  softly  prest 
The  petaled  captive  of  the  glade. 

Then  quickly  thrilled  with  hope-born  thought 
I  seized  the  flower  her  hand  enwreathed, 

And  with  my  lips  I  eager  sought 

The  kiss  she  on  its  heart  had  breathed. 

Her  eyes  met  mine  with  lifted  look, 

Therein  my  fate  I  joyful  read, 
Their  deep  was  clear  as  crystal  brook 

And  all  my  doubt  forever  fled. 


25 


THE  GOLDEN  AGE. 


I. 

To  storied  East  life's  far  perspective  runs, 
Strange  vista  in  a  twilight  of  past  suns, 
Whose  'verging  point  is  that  once  favored  plain, 
Conjectured  lap  where  infant  man  was  lain. 
A  field  wide  famed  as  cradle  of  our  race, 
Whose  first  beginning  left  not  faintest  trace, 
And  thus  man's  source  is  veiled  within  a  night 
That  yet  awaits  a  morn's  revealing  light. 

Though  myth  to  tell  the  secret  well  hath  tried, 

And  keen-eyed  science  hath  its  might  applied, 

It  still  is  shrouded  in  as  dense  a  gloom 

As  that  which  fills  the  confines  of  the  tomb. 

Man  is,  and  yet  he  knows  not  when  or  where 

He  first  found  sustenance  and  sheltering  lair, 

Upon  the  bosom  of  the  Mother  Earth 

As  in  some  fateful  throe  she  gave  him  birth. 

Knows  not  when  first  he  moved  erect  in  space, 
Nor  when  his  form  took  on  those  lines  of  grace 
That  marked  him  as  apart  from  lowlier  kind, 
Undowered  with  the  gift  of  nascent  mind. 
Knows  not  when  first  to  consciousness  he  woke, 
The  birth  of  thought,  when  speech  the  silence  broke, 
The  hour  in  which,  full  oft  to  know  defeat, 
He  first  set  forth  life's  mysteries  to  greet. 

26 


Nor  when  desire  first  to  his  being  cried, 
A  simple  want  that  would  not  be  denied, 
And  all  untaught  on  reason  to  rely 
He  blindly  groped  his  craving  to  supply. 
Nor  when  he  first  to  nature  turned  in  awe, 
Observant  of  her  fixed,  recurrent  law, 
And  felt  upon  his  crude,  receptive  soul 
The  swelling  tide  of  all  her  beauty  roll. 

Knows  not  when  first  unto  his  listening  ear 
Came  vibrant  tones  in  concord  sweet  and  clear ; 
Knows  not  the  time  when  first  he  saw  the  sun 
In  radiant  course  across  the  concave  run, 
And,  as  the  day  declined  into  the  West, 
Felt  night's  soft  hand  upon  his  eyelids  prest, 
Nor,  as  he  woke  unto  a  day  new  born, 
To  untried  sense  came  fragrance  of  the  morn. 

Knows  not  the  time  when  first  he  felt  the  thrill 
That  came  with  sense  of  a  controlling  will, 
And  found  that  in  a  measure  he  could  bend 
An  alien  force  unto  a  wished  for  end. 
Knows  not  when  first  he  looked  upon  his  mate, 
The  fair  companion  of  his  lone  estate, 
And  felt  the  quickening  of  love's  germ  within, 
The  birth  of  sweetest  joy  since  time  hath  been. 


27 


Nor  when  into  his  eyes  his  first  born  smiled, 

And  earth  was  richer  for  a  little  child, 

Nativity  of  those  parental  joys 

That  give  to  life  its  compensating  poise. 

Nor  when  he  first,  with  eyes  uplift  in  fear, 

Felt  the  potential  Omnipresence  near, 

The  unknown  power,  outside  his  mortal  range, 

That  in  his  struggling  mind  wrought  fancies  strange. 

Yet  since  he  first  to  knowledge  did  aspire 

He  ever  hath,  persistent,  had  desire 

To  penetrate  behind  the  pall  and  view 

What  life  was  like  when  stars  to  man  were  new. 

Thus  oft  he  strives  along  the  backward  trail, 

At  ease  within  historic  beacon  hail, 

When  just  beyond,  behold!  a  trackless  plain, 

Where  seeling  mists  make  all  his  efforts  vain. 

Though  ever  baffled  in  his  eager  quest 

He  yet  returns  with  unabated  zest, 

Repaid  if  from  some  far,  long  buried  age 

He  can  reclaim  the  fragment  of  a  page. 

As  when  in  delving  'neath  earth's  crust  of  clay, 

Intent  to  trace  an  early  builder's  way, 

He  feels  o'er  joyed  when  truth  before  unknown 

Lies  faint  revealed  upon  the  constant  stone. 


28 


Or  haply  seeking  on  an  ancient  shore 

To  join  the  present  with  the  life  of  yore, 

Elate  he  finds  a  rare,  dismantled  form 

That  hath  survived  both  time's  decay  and  storm. 

Or  striving  with  alembic  and  with  flame, 

To  master  nature's  process  his  great  aim, 

Through  elements  whose  atoms  unoppose 

He  with  delight  oft  secret  can  disclose. 

Or  in  the  silent  watches  of  the  night 
Gazing  upon  the  fretted  splendor  bright, 
The  patient  searcher  finds  long  waited  due 
In  a  new  sun  within  his  field  of  view. 
While  through  his  higher  cunning,  that  excels, 
He  scans  the  rarer  life  that  round  him  dwells, 
Those  myriad  forms  that  to  his  native  sight 
Are  as  a  look  into  the  darkest  night. 

And  ever  seeking  with  unflagging  zeal 

A  universal  secret  to  reveal, 

If  but  in  part  he  wins  unto  success 

'Tis  prick  to  spur  him  to  yet  greater  stress — 

Thus  step  by  step  doth  mind  extend  its  sway, 

If  in  fresh  fields  so  on  forgotten  way, 

Toward  either  pole  of  all  embracing  span 

That  with  insistent  voice  calls  unto  man. 


29 


By  slow  degrees  doth  he  the  substance  grasp 
Of  things  unseen  in  the  Eternal  clasp, 
And  if  for  substance  oft  its  shadow  takes 
With  clearing  sight  he  from  illusion  wakes. 
Even  thus  his  bit  of  truth  becomes  secure, 
And  though  to  gain  it  he  must  oft  endure 
A  rude  awaking  from  a  cherished  dream, 
'Tis  ever  good,  for  truth  is  all  supreme. 

II. 

And  haply  thus  doth  the  Great  Lord  In  All 
Into  full  being  His  creations  call, 
Through  subtile  change  in  matter  and  in  power 
That  in  good  time  will  bear  perfected  flower. 
The  flaming  vortex  cast  from  giant  sun 
Is  the  foundation  of  a  world  begun, 
That  moulded  by  the  enginery  of  space 
Gives  promise  fair  for  life's  abiding  place. 

A  beaming  orb  with  an  appointed  course, 
In  full  allegiance  to  its  parent  source 
Whose  system  sweeps  in  graceful,  trailless  curves, 
And  from  its  bold,  unhampered  range  ne'er  swerves. 
The  rigid  contours  of  each  massive  range 
'Neath  the  slow  processes  of  nature  change, 
While  loosened  atoms  to  the  lowlands  trend 
As  o'er  the  upper  wastes  the  rains  descend. 


30 


No  rending  shock  now  breaks  th'  harmonious  sway, 

Night  slow  retires  before  the  waking  day, 

Upon  the  breast  of  night  day  sinks  to  rest, 

Sweet  alternation  at  a  high  behest. 

Now  through  the  might  of  an  ethereal  ray 

On  film  begot  of  atomic  decay, 

Transmuted  by  the  mystic  law  of  strife, 

Comes  forth  the  joy  of  an  upspringing  life. 

The  withered  shard  conceals  a  dormant  heart 
That  in  congenial  soil  to  growth  doth  start, 
And  waxing  upward,  in  profusion  fair, 
It  sweetness  gives  to  the  responsive  air. 
A  rarer  germ  takes  on  more  complex  form, 
Developing  'mid  stress  of  sun  and  storm, 
And  in  the  lapse  of  a?ons  comes  at  length 
To  be  a  paragon  of  grace  and  strength. 

Now  through  some  wider  portal  to  life's  way 
Comes  sentient  force  with  its  illuming  ray, 
And  worlds  on  worlds  are  opened  unto  sight 
In  the  profundity  of  ancient  night. 
From  out  life's  deep,  conditions  apt  and  tense, 
Springs  the  expanding  growth  of  moral  sense, 
Supreme  resultant  of  those  finer  strains 
To  which  life  in  its  upward  course  attains. 


31 


Earth's  high  estate !  A  rare  imperial  gift ! 
That  life  itself  doth  with  its  growth  uplift 
To  fairest  fields,  with  richest  treasure  sown, 
Where  each  possessor  must  safeguard  his  own. 
Yet  not  for  sordid  self-aggrandizement 
Was  this  high  function  to  life's  progress  lent, 
But  that  the  fragrance  of  each  single  flower 
Might  blend  with  all  in  one  informing  power. 

No  atom  lost  in  the  unceasing  round, 
No  wasted  force  in  all  the  change  profound, 
As  slowly  burgeoning  to  fairer  states 
Life  on  the  purpose  of  its  being  waits. 
Lo !  in  eternity  all  things  have  place, 
If  incomplete,  yet  distribute  in  space, 
Awaiting  processes  that  bring  and  bind 
The  procreant  atom  to  its  favored  kind. 

And  if  they  seeming  fail,  as  by  mischance, 

They  are  not  lost  through  untoward  circumstance, 

For  into  newer  forms  resolved,  combined, 

Their  place  in  the  economy  they  find. 

While  underneath,  above,  within,  around, 

The  Silent,  Unveiled  Mystery  Profound, 

In  omnipresent  and  omniscient  sway, 

Impels  and  guides  on  universal  way. 


32 


III. 

In  bygone  age,  far  toward  time's  border  line, 

When  thinking  man  had  oft  seen  hope  decline, 

He  placed  his  ideals  in  the  faded  past 

And  wrought  beside  a  maze  of  systems  vast ; 

A  resting  place  for  hope,  with  pantheons  grand, 

Of  his  high  fancy  reared  and  overspanned, 

Abode  of  spirits,  potent,  wise  and  just, 

To  whom  earth's  child  could  look  with  reverent  trust. 

Each  racial  group  on  its  best  thought  made  call, 
And  with  a  sequence  common  to  them  all, 
To  fill  the  primal  void,  for  even  then 
Man's  genesis  was  not  of  mortal  ken. 
Yet  darker  powers  against  him  seemed  arrayed, 
And  oft  a  fell  malignity  displayed, 
Encompassed  him  about  with  specious  toil 
That  he  to  them  might  be  a  hapless  spoil. 

They  were  to  him  the  sponsors  for  all  ill, 
Compelling  oft  'gainst  his  unstable  will, 
And  from  their  place  in  dark  and  nether  sphere 
Upon  him  laid  a  weight  of  woe  and  fear — 
He  backward  looked  toward  his  creations  bright, 
To  fairest  fields  where  once  dwelt  sons  of  light, 
Some  Golden  Age  far  in  the  dawn  of  time 
When  earth  and  man  were  in  their  fullest  prime. 


33 


And  high  o'er  all,  from  their  supernal  realm 
Benignant  spirits  swayed  life's  guiding  helm, 
While  from  the  shades  of  evil's  dread  abode 
Stretched  ruthless  hands  its  weaker  side  to  goad — 
A  teeming  world,  one  just  beyond  the  pale 
That  bounded  vision  in  the  mortal  vale, 
And  yet  across  the  barrier's  seeming  ban 
Came  good  and  ill  to  mould  the  life  of  man. 

One  high  domain  touched  earthly  garden  fair, 

With  beings  first  in  the  potential  care, 

Progenitors  of  earth's  aspiring  race 

That  with  time's  lapse  soon  from  the  light  turned  face. 

'Twas  germ  of  faith  in  one  o'erruling  power, 

Of  all  the  early  cults  supremest  flower, 

Whose  fragrance  yet  stirs  all  the  soul  of  man 

As  he  th'  eternal  harmonies  doth  scan. 

Yet  even  here  seemed  a  divided  reign, 
For  lustful  sin  wrought  mete  of  horrid  bane, 
Not  unalloyed  the  pathway  to  life's  goal 
For  man  o'erweighted  with  sin  burdened  soul. 
It  is  the  flaw  in  time  prevailing  dream 
That  centers  man  in  universal  scheme, 
The  egoistic  dream  of  hampered  mind 
That  freedom  from  its  confines  fain  would  find. 


34 


Yet  man  is  Godlike  with  his  gifts  divine 
When  he  to  highest  ideals  doth  incline, 
And  cultivates  with  zeal  his  nobler  part, 
The  seeking  mind  and  the  far  reaching  heart. 
His  limitations  are  indeed  a  bar, 
Yet  mind  can  soar  up  toward  the  farthest  star, 
And  the  pure  heart  is  from  low  bondage  free, 
For  love  is  boundless  as  eternity. 

And  one,  in  birth,  gave  thought  to  nature's  store, 
Whose  potent  beings  in  their  impress  bore 
A  mingling  of  the  earthly  and  divine — 
Begetters  of  earth's  most  illustrious  line. 
These  beings  'bove  life's  turmoil  held  their  sway, 
To  vigil  keep  o'er  man's  imperfect  way, 
And  with  both  love  and  hatred  to  bestow 
Descended  oft  unseen  to  throng  below. 

If  fortune  favored,  then  these  Gods  were  pleased, 
Or  if  unkind  their  wrath  must  be  appeased, 
They  were  sole  arbiters  of  life  and  fate, 
The  motive  source  for  action  small  and  great. 
They  were  a  marvel  of  creative  mind, 
In  panoply  of  ideal  human  kind, 
With  occult  powers,  in  varying  degree, 
Centered  around  one  largest  majesty. 


35 


This  passion  of  belief  held  active  sway 
Through  long  succeeding  generations'  day, 
And  moulded  life  with  an  exceeding  art 
That  missed  perfection  by  its  lack  of  heart. 
Deep  'neath  the  ashes  of  its  vanished  fire 
Yet  smoulder  sparks  of  its  once  large  desire, 
And  o'er  lone  byways,  mountain,  vale  and  hill, 
The  phantoms  of  its  Gods  are  lingering  still. 

And  one  was  wrought  within  a  rougher  mould, 
Enwrapped  in  atmosphere  both  dark  and  cold, 
Of  sterner  breed,  yet  equally  sublime, 
Whose  offspring  fared  in  less  propitious  clime. 
In  awesome  realm  its  spirits  had  abode, 
And  from  thence  ruled  with  ever  rigid  code 
O'er  all  the  land  where  dwelt  its  devotees, 
In  forests  dark,  by  shores  of  rimy  seas — 

Some  were  but  phantasies  of  untaught  mind, 
Yet  with  the  power  a  savage  horde  to  bind, 
Directing  conduct  on  a  lowly  range — 
Crude  discipline  for  time's  advancing  change. 
And  some  were  fragments  of  an  earlier  sway 
That  had  survived  the  passing  of  its  day, 
Combined  with  gleanings  from  such  newer  thought 
As  unto  man  the  later  years  had  brought. 


36 


And  some  are  lost  in  the  lapsed  ages'  gloom, 

Save  merest  hint  in  temple  and  in  tomb, 

Whose  lifted  forms,  wrought  from  earth's  lasting  clay, 

Defy  th'  eroding  touch  of  time's  decay. 

Refined  or  savage  e'er  to  nature  near, 

And  ever  tinged  with  elemental  fear 

They  were  as  tribute  to  her  mighty  laws, 

Though  void  of  sense  to  underlying  cause. 

All  fancy  born,  in  varied  time  and  place, 

Of  rudest  cult,  or  touched  with  polished  grace, 

They  marked  attainment  in  man's  upward  bent 

And  to  his  life  a  broader  outlook  lent. 

Each  system  served  the  purpose  of  its  day, 

And  long  since  passed  as  active  force  away, 

Save  there  were  some  that  on  both  thought  and  speech 

An  influence  left  that  moulds  time's  highest  reach. 

They  quickened  art's  once  feeble  form  to  might, 
And  letters  bore  unto  such  lofty  height 
As  made  it  fountain  head  for  thought  sublime, 
Whose  flowing  stream  hath  served  all  later  time. 
And  on  the  secret  chambers  of  the  soul 
Where  spirit  holds  its  empire  of  control, 
With  inward  look,  despite  what  earth  betides, 
They  left  an  impress  that  forever  bides. 


37 


The  force  subjective  that  in  man  inheres, 

That  buoys  and  guides  him  o'er  the  lapsing  years, 

Had  early  sway,  even  with  the  birth  of  mind, 

And  tends  in  unity  the  race  to  bind. 

And  if  diverse,  through  processes  of  thought, 

A  vision  high,  another  lower  wrought, 

Their  common  birthplace  is  that  inner  realm, 

And  selfsame  spirit  sways  their  guiding  helm. 

For  his  beliefs  hath  man  e'er  sacrificed, 

And  to  defend  hath  willing  fought  and  died, 

For  the  acceded  concepts  of  his  clan 

Are  as  an  anchor  to  the  soul  of  man. 

Yet  soon  or  late,  down  time's  e'er  widening  range, 

The  old  gives  place  to  an  advancing  change, 

As  seer  and  prophet,  from  exalted  height, 

Sees  and  proclaims  in  glow  of  stronger  light. 

IV. 

Adown  the  ages  to  time's  latest  day, 
Where  man  hath  lingered  in  a  primal  way, 
He  hath  had  gift  of  his  rude  fancy  born 
To  tell  a  story  of  the  natal  morn. 
Great  nature  ever  present  to  his  mind, 
Replete  with  mysteries  of  darksome  kind, 
Hath  urged  him  with  an  all-persuasive  plea 
To  weave  a  tale  of  how  he  came  to  be. 


38 


To  weave  a  tale,  and  if  uncouth  in  art 
Yet  oft  ingenious  in  essential  part, 
And  striking  in  its  play  of  fancy  free, 
Of  origin  and  final  destiny. 
A  wider  view,  through  reason  amplified, 
Hath  bade  him  put  his  childish  dreams  aside, 
Wherein  at  will  the  undeveloped  mind 
Solution  of  life's  mysteries  can  find. 

And  yet  they  are  man's  first  appeals  for  light 
Within  the  maze  of  vast  creation's  night, 
That  seeming  holds  him  as  with  rigid  hand, 
Yet  bids  him  forward  move  with  high  command. 
An  infant's  cry  unto  the  great  unknown 
In  special  plea  that  he  be  guidance  shown, 
A  cry  prolonged  down  time's  unceasing  course 
With  but  faint  answer  from  the  central  source. 

And  yet  if  answered  but  in  slight  degree 

Man  thus  is  led  to  seek  his  destiny, 

Through  innate  force,  as  God  ordained  it  best, 

And  left  him  to  pursue  the  mighty  quest. 

A  quest  wherein  he  should  make  upward  move, 

Through  disciplines  that  would  his  manhood  prove, 

Enlarge  his  vision  to  take  wider  view 

And  in  this  broadening  scope  find  manhood's  due. 


39 


With  eyes  e'er  fixed  upon  hope's  figure  bright, 
Or  if  obscured  not  wholly  lost  to  sight, 
Constrained  to  follow,  as  his  only  guide, 
Man  forward  moves  across  time's  reaches  wide. 
As  sometimes  o'er  the  deep  the  master  sails 
With  orders  sealed  until  his  port  he  hails, 
So  man,  unknowing,  voyages  o'er  life's  tide 
Awaiting  mandate  on  the  further  side. 

And  what  of  that  life  involved  with  a  soul? 
All  vital  part  of  mysterious  whole; 
Forceful  and  bold  though  elusive  withal, 
Sensitive,  shrinking,  yet  heeding  high  call, 
Eagerly  seeking,  e'er  striving  to  soar, 
Wilt  be  dispersed,  be  an  ego  no  more  ? 
Swept  with  the  atoms  of  housing  of  clay, 
Or  jewel- wise  glow  with  eternal  ray? 

V. 

Man  now  looks  forth  to  sight  the  Golden  Age, 
Nor  backward  turns  as  in  a  former  stage, 
Yet  seeking  mind  may  well  explore  the  past 
Even  though  the  future  be  its  goal  at  last ; 
For  knowledge  is  to  man  a  realm  divine, 
And  to  extend,  for  him,  its  outer  line 
Is  to  be  lifted  to  a  higher  plane, 
And  make  what  is  for  earth  enduring  gain : 


40 


Each  new-born  thought,  that  truth's  impress  doth  bear, 

Is  added  gift  to  man's  most  precious  share 

In  treasury  of  universal  lore, 

A  provident  and  never  failing  store ; 

Nor  vainly  sought  as  years  succeeding  show, 

And  if  the  sum  be  small  it  yet  doth  grow — 

Refreshing  fount  when  worn  with  earthly  care, 

As  he  life's  burden  and  its  heat  doth  bear. 

'Tis  freighted  message  from  the  prophet  old 

To  understanding  get  and  wisdom  hold, 

More  forceful  now  from  time's  high  vantage  ground, 

Where  helpful  light  doth  more  and  more  abound. 

Each  generation  adds  unto  the  store 

Of  knowledge  gained  by  those  who  walked  before, 

Slow  rising  structure,  from  whose  topmost  walls 

The  swelling  voice  of  all  the  ages  calls. 

Unfinished  yet,  and  when,  none  can  foretell, 
Nor  even  on  that  consummation  dwell 
When  overarched,  complete,  and  garnished  fair 
It  shall  the  approval  of  the  Master  bear. 
As  in  the  realm  of  knowledge  lies  truth's  store, 
He  who  would  find  it  must  this  realm  explore, 
Of  his  own  will,  through  his  own  efforts  gain 
His  priceless  portion  of  truth's  golden  grain. 


41 


VI. 

There  are  great  epochs  in  man's  upward  course, 
Though  far  removed  from  his  primeval  source, 
So  fraught  with  meaning  to  his  progress  high 
They  should  not  in  a  cold  oblivion  lie ; 
Nor  buried  be  beneath  the  ages'  dust, 
Or  be  o'erlooked  in  rage  of  worldly  lust, 
But  should  be  kept  in  memory's  active  sphere 
And  thus  become  to  future  ages  dear. 

Should  be  as  marked  in  spirit  and  by  deed 

As  those  where  now  one  can  a  message  read, 

Those  honored  shrines,  where  grateful  hearts  now  bring 

The  tribute  of  memorial  offering. 

It  quickens  loyalty  to  higher  aims, 

And  strengthens  all  the  bond  of  human  claims 

To  sometimes  stand,  where,  in  a  former  day, 

Great  deeds  were  wrought  to  influence  for  aye. 

As  where  a  daring  few  the  unknown  braved, 

To  find  the  peace  their  longing  spirits  craved, 

And  planted  outpost,  small,  yet  big  with  fate, 

The  herald  bold  of  a  puissant  state. 

And  builded  there  far  better  than  they  knew, 

For  ev'n  in  fancy  they  could  not  pursue 

Those  bold  events  that  marked  time's  later  flight, 

And  welded  statehood  in  a  nation's  might. 


42 


Both  fame  and  honor  is  their  guerdon  free 
Who  toiled  that  others  more  of  light  might  see, 
Whose  time  was  harbinger  for  fairer  life 
Even  though  it  came  through  sacrifice  and  strife. 
Thus  recognition  doth  their  efforts  crown, 
The  weal  that  from  them  comes  the  ages  down 
Is  like  a  river,  broadening  to  the  sea, 
Outswelling  to  a  vast  immensity. 

A  pageant  grand,  that  doth  the  sight  enthrall, 
Evolving  from  the  pilgrim's  effort  small 
Through  varied  scene,  yet  with  enlarging  hope, 
Till  now  it  dazzles  in  its  mighty  scope. 
Yet  man  is  but  an  infant  groping  still, 
Seeking  as  ever  the  Eternal  will, 
With  vision  toward  the  future's  pregnant  glow 
As  sires  looked  back  in  the  far  long  ago. 

Or  as  where  right  'gainst  giant  wrong  hath  stood, 

A  world's  great  hope  in  a  strong  brotherhood 

That  beat  far  back  a  foul,  fast  rising  tide, 

That  fairest  fields  with  noisomeness  would  hide. 

A  victory !  yet  one  most  dearly  bought, 

Where  death  reaped  harvest  that  appalls  the  thought, 

And  yet  where  hope  no  other  way  could  see 

To  clear  the  path  for  onward  destiny. 


43 


War's  wreck  and  ruin  scars  once  fruitful  land, 
And  want  and  sorrow  wander  hand  in  hand 
Till  brooding  peace,  on  far  outspreading  wings, 
With  healing  touch  its  blest  assuaging  brings. 
A  well  marked  stride  in  man's  ordained  advance, 
Nor  one  that  can  be  claimed  for  wayward  chance, 
For  in  the  issue  of  the  movement  grand 
May  well  be  seen  an  overguiding  hand. 

Or  where  some  gifted  man,  with  proffered  truth, 
Met  only  wrath  in  place  of  grateful  ruth, 
Bore  weight  of  scorn,  or  yielded  life  with  hope 
That  later  years  would  justify  his  scope. 
And  down  the  ever  widening  field  of  time, 
With  courage  high  and  constancy  sublime, 
Have  leaders  risen  to  direct  life's  way 
Despite  of  scorn,  or  threat  of  ending  day. 

Or  where  above  debris  of  buried  past, 

Where  earthly  lot  of  myriads  was  cast, 

Above  the  ashes  of  a  buried  host 

Whose  pomp  and  splendor  were  vain-glorious  boast, 

Now  lies  a  country  fair,  where  better  days 

Have  wrought  for  fairer  life,  more  hopeful  ways, 

As  progress  with  its  slow  yet  steady  hand 

Of  once  lone  waste  hath  made  a  teeming  land. 


44 


Or  on  that  hallowed  ground  where  soul  most  rare 
Was  moved  the  burdens  of  his  race  to  bear, 
And  who  through  precept  sweet  and  life  sublime 
Became  the  ideal  for  all  later  time. 
With  love  that  compassed  all  of  boundless  space 
He  sternly  challenged  motives  low  and  base, 
And  yet  withal  had  charity  that  shames 
The  loud  assurance  of  the  bigot's  claims. 

Man's  pure,  high  hope  turns  toward  this  figure  bright, 
Whose  love  made  darkness  yield  to  morning  light, 
The  widening  dayspring  of  each  clime  and  age, 
Name  highest  writ  upon  earth's  fairest  page. 
A  central  sun,  with  fruitful  blessing  fraught, 
In  firmament  of  man's  supremest  thought, 
Where  other  lights,  each  in  its  special  course, 
Pale  in  the  glow  from  this  resplendent  source. 

VII. 

Man  may  be  born  to  low  or  high  estate, 

And  yet  possessor  be  of  powers  that  wait 

But  moving  of  a  circumstantial  train 

To  bear  him  far  beyond  the  common  gain. 

Or  high,  or  low,  he  may  through  wealth  of  gifts, 

The  forceful  will,  with  virtue  that  uplifts, 

So  guide  his  bark  o'er  life's  tempestuous  tide 

As  through  the  mists  to  highest  honors  ride. 


45 


Or  humble  be  in  worldly  estimate, 
And  yet  in  finer  sense  be  truly  great 
Through  qualities  that  reason  must  commend, 
And  that  to  earth  a  sweeter  beauty  lend. 
And  who  should  judge  of  failure  and  success, 
Or  censor  be  amid  the  earthly  stress, 
Save  one  whose  charity  is  ever  kind 
And  who  with  reason  doth  his  judgments  find? 

Yea !  man  is  weak  and  needs  on  faith  to  lean, 
Distraught  with  swaying  doubt  oft  halts  between 
The  impulse  that  impels  to  pathway  down, 
And  nobler  sense  that  would  his  being  crown. 
He  feels  the  buffets  of  a  scheming  world, 
And  by  its  blinded  passion  oft  is  whirled 
From  off  the  foothold  where  he  fain  would  stay, 
The  hapless  sport  of  fate's  remorseless  play. 

Or  firm  as  is  the  rock  imbedded  fast, 
The  seething  whirlwind  rushes  vainly  past, 
And  leaves  him  scathless,  towering  in  his  might, 
Unto  his  kind  a  steadfast  beacon  light : 
To  show  the  possibilities  in  man, 
And  emphasize  the  beauty  of  the  plan 
Wherein  he,  striving,  may  yet  come  to  be 
The  confidant  of  the  Eternity. 


46 


Slow  is  man's  progress  on  the  upward  trend, 
Doubt  and  despair  their  presence  ever  lend 
To  hold  in  check,  and  long  keep  unfulfilled 
Progressive  law  by  the  Creator  willed ; 
And  selfishness  begets  a  wilful  brood, 
Whose  baser  motives  oft  obscure  the  mood 
Where  better  aspirations  should  prevail 
To  keep  his  feet  upon  the  higher  trail. 

Great  sorrow  on  the  heart  leaves  furrowed  trace, 
A  wound  slow  healed  despite  consoling  grace, 
The  greater  love,  the  deeper  sorrow's  thrust, 
As  when  high  hope  is  buried  in  earth's  dust. 
And  other  griefs,  of  great  or  lesser  weight, 
O'er-cloud  the  lightsomeness  of  life's  estate, 
Wring  from  the  heart  a  rain  of  bitter  tears, 
Cast  lengthened  shadows  o'er  the  coming  years. 

Yet  man  by  nature  is  an  heir  to  joy 

As  well  as  sorrow,  thus  should  well  employ 

Those  sweet  activities  that  make  for  peace, 

And  to  his  fairer  birthright  give  increase ; 

Be  rich  possessor  of  that  open  mind 

Where  truth  and  beauty  their  abode  e'er  find, 

And  radiate  about,  in  circle  wide, 

Those  higher  joys  that  ever  with  them  bide. 


47 


IX. 

A  quiet  worker  in  his  lone  retreat, 
Striving  an  earth  want  to  successful  meet, 
Toils  long  and  late,  with  alternating  hope, 
That  man  may  walk  where  yet  he  can  but  grope. 
Haply  with  primal  forces  he  doth  deal, 
Elusive,  baffling  all  his  earnest  zeal, 
Or  with  some  rarer  problem  of  the  mind 
He  vainly  strives  its  subtilties  to  bind. 

At  length  across  his  vision  falls  a  light 
That  dissipates  the  mist  before  his  sight, 
And  to  a  needy  world  he  gives  a  prize 
And  finds  reward  in  its  approving  eyes. 
An  uncrowned  hero  in  a  peaceful  field ! 
Who  to  life's  fruitage  adds  a  richer  yield, 
Or  who  through  might  of  an  expanding  truth 
Implants  in  human  hearts  a  larger  ruth. 

X. 

Into  a  home  where  love  and  peace  abide 
Is  borne  a  soul  on  an  incoming  tide, 
And  nurtured  in  the  way  of  truth  and  right 
Begins  its  ascent  up  toward  manhood's  height. 
And  early  in  his  progress  toward  the  goal, 
Despite  the  surges  that  around  him  roll, 
Such  promise  gives  within  a  narrow  field 
As  makes  it  prophecy  for  greater  yield. 

48 


Now  as  the  years  their  widening  vista  ope 
With  larger  duties  doth  this  manhood  cope, 
And  in  affairs  such  virile  force  displays 
As  wins  the  merit  of  his  fellows'  praise ; 
E'er  mounting  up  at  higher  law's  demands 
This  soul  to  greater  usefulness  expands, 
And  many  reap,  if  to  themselves  unknown, 
Of  fruitful  harvest  that  its  life  hath  sown. 

And  though  assailed  through  spite  of  petty  minds, 

Oft  object  of  the  jealousy  that  finds 

In  true  nobility  a  shining  mark, 

And  makes  attack  from  unseen  places  dark, 

Yet  all  unscathed  he  keeps  unto  the  way, 

With  life  as  open  as  the  sunlit  day 

He  turns  aside  the  point  of  jealous  shaft, 

And  futile  makes  the  toils  of  scheming  craft. 

A  man  full-statured  in  the  larger  sense, 
Who  finds  within  life's  truest  recompense, 
With  all  the  gifts  that  make  its  sweetest  part 
In  union  joined  with  a  strong  mind  and  heart — 
And  if  by  chance,  then  chance  is  surely  kind 
To  have  thus  highly  wrought  though  seeming  blind, 
Or  if  through  law,  by  higher  power  ordained, 
Then  who  can  say  what  yet  may  be  attained? 


49 


Belike  of  both,  though  all  unequal  yoked, 
Law  riding  high  o'er  what  chance  hath  evoked, 
Combined  with  faith  to  sight  the  higher  goal 
And  hope  bold  leader  for  aspiring  soul. 
The  height  supreme  as  yet  attained  of  earth ; 
Rare  sublimate  from  elemental  birth; 
A  prophecy  of  larger  life  to  be 
Within  the  scope  of  this  activity. 

XI. 

Yet  man  alone  of  life  is  but  a  part 
That  finds  its  complement  in  woman's  heart, 
A  twain  conjoined  to  make  the  life  complete 
As  since  the  morn  of  time  it  hath  been  meet ; 
Sweet  sharer  of  his  hope  and  all  his  joy, 
His  pain  and  sorrow,  born  of  earth's  alloy, 
Soul  intimates  from  a  whole  world  beside 
Who  in  Love's  magic  realm  elect  to  bide. 

O  woman  fair !  Thou  choicest  of  earth's  yield ! 

Of  gracious  spirit,  heart  of  love  revealed, 

Thy  loyalty  is  an  unfading  bloom 

Even  at  the  cross  or  by  the  silent  tomb ; 

Thy  tenderness  exhales  in  constant  charm, 

Thy  sweet  voice  soothes  like  hush  of  summer's  calm, 

O  loveliest  of  all  within  time's  span, 

Thou  brooding  mother,  and  the  mate  of  man. 


50 


XII. 

Around  the  hearth,  where  glows  the  sacred  fire, 
Fair  children  gather,  fruit  of  love's  desire; 
The  mother  holds  them  as  her  heart's  delight, 
For  them  the  father  makes  life's  manful  fight. 
Here  helpless  infancy  makes  its  great  plea 
For  care  and  guidance  in  the  days  to  be, 
Repays  in  myriad  fold  with  gaining  grace, 
And  more  and  more  fills  an  endeared  place. 

Here  are  those  precepts  learned  that  aye  endure, 
Are  known  the  joys  whose  memory  keeps  life  pure, 
Here  love's  deft  fingers  mould  the  plastic  mind 
In  labor  sweet  with  fondest  hopes  entwined. 
Herein  are  sown  the  seeds  of  righteousness, 
Whose  ripened  harvest  doth  supremely  bless, 
In  later  eras  of  his  mortal  span 
Makes  strong  and  sweet  the  favored  soul  of  man. 

Here  is  the  motive  for  all  highest  gain ; 
Is  light  that  makes  the  path  of  duty  plain; 
Here  brooding  peace,  from  store  of  happiness, 
Pours  out  the  measure  of  life's  true  success. 
Home  calls  the  wanderer  back  to  the  fold 
Even  though  between  the  pathless  seas  have  rolled ; 
Home  is  the  goal  for  him  who  daily  toils, 
Possession  richer  than  all  worldly  spoils ; 


51 


For  here  love  crowns  him  as  an  honored  king, 
And  all  its  sweetest  ministries  doth  bring 
To  cheer  his  hope,  and  all  his  hurts  assuage 
That  he  hath  suffered  from  life's  battling  rage. 
Home  is  the  unit  of  the  mighty  state ; 
Home  weaves  a  tie  that  outlives  death  and  fate, 
Yea !  incense  from  its  altared  hearth  doth  rise 
Whose  wafted  fragrance  mingles  with  the  skies. 

XIII. 

If  man  be  highest  product  of  those  laws 

That  work  obedient  to  Eternal  Cause, 

Then  in  his  being  should  reflected  be 

Some  attribute  of  the  Eternity. 

The  sentiency  that  puts  him  to  the  fore, 

That  gives  him  power  beyond  earth's  dust  to  soar, 

Seems  a  reflection  from  the  All  Wise  Mind 

That  worlds  and  suns  in  harmony  doth  bind. 

His  ethic  force,  that  makes  for  righteousness, 
Seems  emanation  from  divinest  stress, 
As  if  the  breath  of  the  All  Potent  Power 
Had  touched  his  spirit  at  its  natal  hour — 
Creative  man  is  purposive  in  plan, 
Inception  and  finality  doth  scan, 
Then  bends  his  force  to  work  as  he  hath  willed 
And  unto  chance  leaves  naught  to  be  fulfilled. 


52 


Love  is  indwelling  force,  persistent  aye, 
Hope  is  the  pioneer  that  clears  the  way, 
Through  eye  of  faith  comes  that  refined  light 
That  mirrors  on  the  soul  the  out  of  sight. 
These  are  supremest  gifts  on  man  bestowed, 
His  highest  grasp  on  the  eternal  code, 
That  make  him  first  in  his  restricted  field, 
The  fairest  fruit  of  earth's  progressive  yield. 

Yet  haply  'neath  some  far,  far  distant  sun 

Life  may  through  striving  grander  heights  have  won, 

Attained  to  gifts  beyond  this  mortal  scope 

And  yet  akin  to  love,  to  faith  and  hope. 

Unto  intelligence  and  moral  sway, 

That  rule  the  course  of  universal  way, 

In  part  imparted,  part  in  reflex  fair, 

That  all  created  forms  as  agents  share. 

XIV. 

True  happiness  should  be  the  earthly  aim, 
Widespread,  diffused,  a  boon  that  all  may  claim, 
The  conservation  of  all  choicest  things 
That  unto  man  life's  brief  experience  brings ; 
Protracted  haply  into  other  spheres, 
Perchance  cut  short  with  closing  of  his  years, 
Yet  let  the  issue  be  whate'er  it  may 
True  happiness  should  be  the  earthly  way. 


53 


XV. 

Far  distant  lies  the  prime  of  golden  age, 
That  ideal  realm  devoid  of  lustful  rage, 
To  be  attained  through  no  inglorious  ease, 
Nor  when  achieved  will  man's  great  efforts  cease ; 
For  he  must  strive  to  keep  what  he  hath  won 
Along  the  tortuous  path  his  feet  have  run, 
And  with  endeavor  to  maintain  his  place 
Unto  his  life  add  an  increasing  grace. 

Each  age  is  golden  to  the  same  degree 
That  sees  man  more  and  more  inclined  to  be 
The  master  of  those  primal  instincts  strong, 
That  in  their  license  keep  him  to  the  wrong. 
Each  age  is  golden  to  the  same  degree 
That  sees  the  more  of  mind  untrammeled,  free, 
And  yet  conserved  by  ideals  pure  and  high 
That  reach  as  far  as  from  the  earth  to  sky. 

That  age  will  golden  be  when  o'er  the  earth 
Mankind  shall  feel  a  larger  sense  of  worth, 
Feel  more  akin  in  dignity  of  soul 
To  those  vast  forces  that  around  earth  roll. 
That  age  will  golden  be  that  sees  the  right 
Replace  the  ancient,  brutal  reign  of  might, 
Where  love  and  truth,  in  all  pervading  sway, 
With  well  poised  reason  shall  direct  the  way ; 


54 


The  way  where  peace  and  honor  both  shall  bide, 
With  lovely  virtues  that  are  gained  beside 
The  quiet  hearthstone,  and  in  honest  toil, 
That  seeks  not  to  o'erreach  or  to  despoil ; 
Where  justice,  clear  eyed,  shall  be  no  man's  thrall, 
And  larger  knowledge  shall  give  clarion  call 
For  faith  in  Him  who  dwells  within,  around, 
And  holds  all  things  in  sweet  communion  bound. 

Thus  man  should  forward  press  forever  more 
Unto  the  good  the  future  hath  in  store, 
And  leave  behind,  as  onward  he  doth  go, 
Upon  his  path  a  cheerful  afterglow. 
His  hope  should  reach  unto  a  fairer  day, 
And  foster  faith  in  life's  triumphant  way — 
That  in  the  scope  of  universal  plan 
In  valued  sphere  will  be  the  soul  of  man. 

Whate'er  betides,  whate'er  to  man  befalls 
The  Infinite  unto  him  ever  calls, 
For  he  is  part  of  the  Eternal  Good 
By  mortal  mind  but  dimly  understood. 
His  place  and  state  no  prophet  can  foretell, 
He  can  but  trust  the  issue  will  be  well, 
That  his  endowment  with  its  heavy  cost 
In  the  Eternity  will  not  be  lost. 


55 


EPITOME. 

A  bit  of  clay  on  shaping  wheel, 
A  touch  from  nature's  pliant  hand, 
A  spark,  as  heaven's  approved  seal, 
A  breath  of  time  by  heart  beat  spanned, 

Of  such  is  man. 

A  fertile  brain  with  purpose  filled, 
A  mystic  soul  with  hopes  and  fears, 
An  active  force  to  plan  and  build, 
An  ecstasy  of  joy  and  tears, 

Of  such  is  man. 

A  drifting  mote  in  sunlit  space, 
An  atom  from  the  ether  reft, 
A  thing  of  beauty  and  of  grace, 
A  memory  to  his  fellows  left, 

Of  such  is  man. 

He  cannot  scale,  behind,  before, 
The  rigid  walls  that  hem  his  lot, 
And  thus  for  mythic  wings  to  soar 
Hath  he  aspiring  eager  sought. 

'Tis  thus  with  man. 

Yet  who  can  quench  the  living  fire 
That  flames  triumphant  in  his  breast, 
Or  limit  his  sublime  desire 
That  bit  of  heaven  find  heavenly  rest, 

Save  Him  who  gave? 

56 


ON  THE  HILLS. 

When  o'er  upland  summits  ranging, 
Summer's  glow  on  the  slow  changing 

Vales  and  hills, 

How  the  heart  is  stirred  with  pleasure 
As  uplifted  thought  doth  measure 
Joys — not  ills — upon  the  hills. 

Sunshine  flooding  from  the  Giver 
Makes  each  spacious  open  quiver 

'Mid  the  hills ; 

Bathing,  laving  all  in  gladness — 
Not  a  single  note  of  sadness 
Sends  its  thrills  upon  the  hills. 

List  ecstatic  chorus  singing! 
Songsters  arrowy  flights  are  winging 

O'er  the  hills ; 

Seems  not  winged  grace  the  fleeter, 
And  the  liquid  notes  the  sweeter, 
Flights  and  trills  upon  the  hills  ? 

Zephyrs  through  the  forest  sighing 
Are  with  tuneful  waters  vying 

'Mid  the  hills; 

Sighs  that  burdened  heart  can  lighten 
As  their  swell  and  cadence  heighten 
Songs  of  rills  amid  the  hills. 


57 


Subtile  perfumes,  softly  stealing, 
Are  as  promises  of  healing 

From   the  hills; 

Wealth  ungarnered,  yet  not  wasted 
If  but  single  soul  hath  tasted 
Peace  that  fills  upon  the  hills. 

Vault  of  azure,  type  unfading 
For  the  changeful  tints  pervading 

Vales  and  hills ; 
To  the  mind  the  blue  is  fairer, 
And  the  flush  of  earth  tints  rarer, 
As  it  wills  upon  the  hills. 

Choicest  of  harmonious  blending 
Is  the  tide  of  summer  lending 

To  the  hills ; 

And  great  nature's  calm  is  pressing 
On  responsive  soul  its  blessing 
As  it  stills  upon  the  hills. 

When  at  upland  vantage  sitting, 
Cloudlet  shadows  swiftly  flitting 

O'er  the  hills, 

Life  expands  to  larger  measure, 
And  the  quickened  heart  hath  pleasure 
Void  of  ills  upon  the  hills. 


58 


AN  EXCURSION. 


I  linger  in  the  field  of  books, 
In  part  that  childhood  graces, 
Wherein  is  charm  of  quaintest  nooks 
And  sunny,  smiling  places. 

What  richness  and  what  merry  cheer 
In  all  this  choice  creation, 
Whose  increase  now  in  single  year 
Itself  is  revelation. 

The  insight  clear,  the  happy  word 
To  guide  youth's  wayward  fancies, 
The  latent  skill  by  wisdom  stirred 
To  catch  its  restless  glances, 

What  rarer  gift  can  heaven  bestow 
From  out  its  choicest  treasure? 
To  plant  the  truth  and  see  it  grow 
Is  blessing  without  measure. 

Strange  contrast  these  with  meager  store 
That  caught  our  youthful  vision, 
The  scattered  gems  that  chanced  before 
This  later  growth  elysian. 


59 


And  yet  how  dear  the  classic  few 
That  fed  our  youthful  longing — 
With  old,  old  tales  that  once  were  new 
Come  happy  memories  thronging. 

It  hath  been  said  that  after  four 
The  human  mind  needs  driving, 
Till  at  fifteen  or  little  more 
Itself  betakes  to  striving. 

Perchance  the  speaker  did  not  dream 
Of  later  tenser  making, 
When  children  at  castalian  stream 
Would  ever  thirst  be  slaking. 

And  to  subserve  their  youthful  need, 
On   fresh,   attractive  pages 
Is  spread  the  bloom  of  thought  and  deed, 
The  flowering  of  the  ages. 

'Tis  ours  to  keep  both  watch  and  ward 
O'er  all  this  broad  dominion, 
And  strive  with  might,  in  firm  accord, 
To  mould  a  high  opinion. 

To  keep  in  sympathy  with  youth 
And  wholesome  service  render, 
As  when  example  holds  the  truth 
Before  the  conscience  tender. 


60 


IN  WAYS  DIVINE. 


O  Thou  who  art  of  all  supreme! 
The  fount  of  love's  abiding  stream, 
Thy  bounty  with  its  fostering  care 
Invites  the  solace  of  a  prayer. 

And  not  alone  on  bended  knee 
Do  our  petitions  rise  to  Thee, 
Nor  need  we  always  seek  the  place 
To  bare  our  hearts  before  Thy  face. 

For  prostrate  form  and  studied  phrase 
Are  not  the  only  gates  to  praise — 
In  varied  paths  Thy  child  to  Thee 
May  come  in  closest  harmony. 

A  trembling  hope,  a  sigh,  may  rise 
With  message  to  the  shining  skies ; 
A  word  from  memory's  broad  array 
Show  wakened  penitence  the  way. 

A  simple  flower,  dew  scented,  white, 
May  speed  an  errant  thought  aright, 
And  strain  of  music  low  and  soft 
Direct  the  troubled  soul  aloft. 


61 


A  filmy  cloud  in  azure  sea 

Can  turn  indifference  to  Thee, 

While  sun  and  moon,  even  storm-wind  rude, 

Constrain  to  thy  beatitude. 

Sweet  pity's  tear  and  kindly  deed 
Lack  not  a  swift  responsive  heed, 
As  to  the  giver's  finer  sense 
Comes  all  the  blessed  recompense. 

The  reverent  soul  will  fain  look  up 
Whate'er  the  potion  in  its  cup, 
And  thankful  heart  aspire  to  praise 
The  fullness  of  its  ordered  days. 


62 


A  SONG  OF  SPRING. 

Forceful  yet  mild  is  the  breath  of  Spring, 
Wooing  the  bluebird  early  to  sing, 
Moving  the  leaflet  swift  to  unfold, 
Coaxing  the  wild  flower  up  from  the  mould. 

Fragrant  and  pure  is  the  vernal  air 
Filling  all  space  with  a  freshness  rare, 
Bringing  to  pulses  winter  e'er  stills 
Promise  of  joy  that  summer  fulfills. 

Charmingly  sweet  is  the  voice  of  Spring 
Bidding  young  Love  to  the  quickening — 
Songbird  and  leaflet,  opening  flower, 
Are  to  fair  Love  Spring's  welcoming  dower. 

Cheeringly  bright  is  Spring's  gracious  smile 
As  with  her  charms  she  Love  doth  beguile — 
'Tis  fairest  sight  that  nature  doth  bring, 
Transfigured  Love  in  the  smile  of  Spring. 


63 


IN  THIS  MANNER. 


Thus  in  man's  eventful  course 
From  the  deep  of  primal  night, 

From  the  realm  of  unknown  source 
Upward  with  increasing  might ; 

Through  the  sacrifice  and  pain 

That  attend  the  law  divine, 
As  he  strives  for  nobler  gain 

And  to  grander  heights  would  climb; 

Now  and  then  to  waiting  sight 
Looms  a  great  heroic  form, 

Towering  in  the  growing  light 

'Bove  the  common  stress  and  storm. 

One  who  sees  and  grasps  his  chance 
In  life's  grand  unfolding  scheme, 

And  o'er-riding  circumstance 
Proves  to  all  his  gifts  supreme. 

Who  by  might  of  word  or  deed, 
By  some  timely,  fateful  stroke, 

Wakes  a  world  to  larger  need — 
Fertile  field  before  unbroke. 


64 


And  a  world  pays  tribute  fair, 
Soon  or  late  gives  its  acclaim, 

To  his  name  for  effort  rare 

Grants  the  boon,  undying  fame. 

One  more  step  upon  the  way 
In  the  progress  of  the  race, 

One  more  step  toward  fairer  day, 
Nearer  universal  grace, 

Through  the  sacrifice  and  pain 
That  attend  the  law  divine, 

As  man  grasps  the  nobler  gain 
And  to  grander  heights  doth  climb. 


65 


SINGERS  OF  OLD. 


I  sometimes  muse,  in  quiet  hour, 

Of  singers  in  that  ancient  time 
When  song  was  in  its  early  flower, 

Far  from  its  present  affluent  prime. 

Now  here,  now  there,  a  song  was  sung 
To  sound  through  all  the  ages'  change, 

In  swelling  tones  that  e'er  have  rung 
Attuned  to  note  of  highest  range. 

Those  singers  plucked  from  virgin  soil 

Such  flowers  of  thought  to  wreathe  and  twine, 

As  fragrant  yet,  with  all  our  spoil, 
Can  stir  the  blood  like  ancient  wine. 

They  freshly  looked  on  nature's  page, 
And  coined  such  phrase  its  charm  to  tell, 

That  much  of  later  "noble  rage" 

To  their  grand  strains  is  minor  swell. 

They  sounded  deep  life's  inner  wells, 
And  swept  the  chords  therein  art  strung 

With  touch  whose  music  yet  compels 
'Mid  all  that  poets  since  have  sung. 


66 


No  tome  was  theirs,  or  charted  sheet, 
To  guide  them  in  this  pleasant  way, 

But  they  instinctively  did  greet 
The  call  to  sing  in  tuneful  lay. 

'Twas  their  good  fortune  thus  to  be 
The  leaders  in  that  art  divine, 

Where  man  can  show  the  majesty 
Of  nobler  thought  in  measured  line. 

And  others  yet  life's  deep  will  sound, 
Will  see  the  charm  in  nature's  face, 

For  life  and  nature  are  profound 
And  gift  to  sing  is  inborn  grace. 


67 


ON  THE  HEART  OF  THE  INFINITE. 

As  we  drift  alone  and  helpless  from  the  deep, 
While  the  bitter,  wailing  surges  round  us  sweep, 
Ev'n  when  safe  in  earthly  havens  we  recline 
Dost  Thou  hold  us  to  Thy  bosom,  Power  Divine? 

In  the  beauty  and  the  vigor  born  of  youth, 
Though  oft  straying  ever  yearning  for  the  truth, 
Drinking  deep  from  nature's  chalice  sweetest  wine, 
Dost  Thou  hold  us  to  Thy  bosom,  Power  Divine? 

When  the  glowing  sun  of  noontide  blazons  all, 
And  on  clarion  note  is  borne  life's  active  call, 
Calling  all  its  subtile  forces  to  combine, 
Dost  Thou  hold  us  to  Thy  bosom,  Power  Divine? 

Soon  the  glory  of  the  noontide  fades  for  aye, 
And  the  shadows,  softly  falling,  cross  the  way; 
When  our  worn  and  drooping  bodies  know  decline 
Dost  Thou  hold  us  to  Thy  bosom,  Power  Divine? 

As  we  drift  alone  and  helpless  through  the  gloom 
When  earth's  weak  and  fainting  portion  seeks  the  tomb, 
Where  no  rays  into  the  shadowed  valley  shine, 
Dost  Thou  hold  us  to  Thy  bosom,  Power  Divine? 

Ever  reaching  toward  the  Infinite  profound, 
Seeing  wondrous  love  and  harmony  abound, 
We  have  faith  that  all  our  being  is  of  Thine — 
And  Thine  arm  is  ever  round  us,  Power  Divine. 

68 


LAW  AND  LOVE. 

As  I  hark  to  the  voice  from  the  infinite  deep 
That  cries  unto  man,  "As  ye  sow  so  ye  reap," 
Then  I  know  in  my  heart,  full  with  questioning  awe, 
'Tis  the  word  and  decree  of  unchanging  law. 

Yet  I  feel  in  my  heart,  despite  question  and  awe, 
Underlying  fiat  of  unbending  law 
Is  the  heart  of  its  maker,  Creator  of  all, 
And  Love  is  the  keynote  in  challenging  call. 

For  a  Universe  Builder  must  needs  have  His  ways 
With  the  myriad  forms  His  activity  sways, 
And  harmonious  law  serves  the  purpose  divine 
Of  All-biding  Love  with  omniscient  design. 


O  YE  OF  LITTLE  FAITH. 

O  ye  of  little  faith !  who  rail  at  fate, 

And  with  a  narrow  vision  only  see 
In  ordered  law  a  ruthless  hand  of  hate, 

Compelling  to  an  untoward  destiny. 

O  ye  of  little  faith!  who  under-prize 
The  larger  values  in  this  mortal  scope, 

Nor  soar  above  what  on  life's  surface  lies, 
Nor  with  its  deeper  undercurrents  cope. 

O  ye  of  little  faith !  who  love  deride, 

The  love  that  is  from  primal  passion  free ; 

Who  know  not  joys  that  in  the  heart  abide 
Whose  pulses  throb  with  large  humanity. 

O  ye  who  sadly  lack  both  faith  and  love, 

Deprived  of  charm  their  helpful  presence  brings, 

Why  stay  below,  why  rise  not  high  above 
Into  communion  with  life's  sweeter  things? 


70 


THE  MASTERPIECE. 

O  sweet  are  the  lilies  and  fair, 

And  the  perfume  where  roses  grow  wild, 

Yet  sweeter  beyond  their  compare 

Is  the  bloom  on  the  heart  of  a  child — 

The  unfolding  heart  of  a  child. 

How  deep  is  the  azure  above, 
And  its  purity  how  undefined, 
Yet  deeper  and  purer  the  love 
In  the  heart  of  a  sweet  little  child — 
The  unfathomed  heart  of  a  child. 

God  fashioned  the  o'er-arching  skies, 
The  flowers  that  for  ages  have  smiled, 
Yet  ever  His  crowning  work  lies 
In  the  fresh,  happy  heart  of  a  child — 
The  heart  of  an  innocent  child. 

O  sweet  is  the  story  of  old 
That  to  hope  oft  hath  soul  reconciled, 
Christ's  likeness  of  God's  precious  fold 
To  the  heart  of  a  dear  little  child — 
The  love-trusting  heart  of  a  child. 


71 


CONSECRATED. 

We  ask,  O  Thou  Divinest  One! 
These  gifts  for  this  beloved  son, 
That  all  his  days  may  freighted  be 
With  wisdom,  strength,  humility. 

Endow  him  with  subjective  force 
To  teach  Thee  as  the  mighty  source 
Wherein  can  all  be  understood — 
Thou  Infinite,  the  Highest  Good : 

Give  him  a  calm  and  open  mind 
Where  truth  may  ever  welcome  find, 
And  constant  will  that  choosing  right 
Shall  face,  unswerving,  to  the  light ; 

Touch  his  young  heart  with  heavenly  fire, 
That  he  may  other  lives  inspire 
To  clearer  faith  and  larger  aims, 
And  all  that  charity  proclaims. 

May  all  the  sweetness  and  the  grace 
Through  which,  alone,  is  seen  Thy  face, 
From  his  pure  life  and  precepts  fall 
As  he  shall  serve  each  sacred  call. 


72 


A  DAY  IN  JUNE. 

Dear  nature,  in  thy  smiling  face 
We  read  today  of  hope  and  blessing, 
Each  lovely  form,  each  tinted  grace, 
Is  thy  most  happy  mood  confessing. 

As  subtile  force  in  mystic  ways 

Hath  wrought  for  thee  this  sweet  adorning, 

Ev'n  thus  it  moves  the  soul  to  praise 

The  joy  of  all  this  fairest  morning. 

In  fresh  array,  with  lavish  hue, 

Each  tree  and  shrub  its  charm  is  lending, 

And  all  the  colors  in  the  view 

Of  harmony  are  message  sending. 

The  sun  hath  kissed  each  open  cup 
And  drank  its  mete  of  night's  distilling, 
That  each  hath  gladly  yielded  up, 
Refreshed  by  law  of  love  fulfilling. 

The  shining  brook,  in  wayward  mood, 
Through  woodland  and  through  mead  is  flowing, 
Where  oft  the  trailing  reeds  are  wooed 
That  by  its  fertile  marge  are  growing. 

And  now  its  crystal  waters  leap 

The  frequent  shallows'  roughened  setting, 

Now  placid,  in  a  broader  sweep, 

As  if  its  restlessness  forgetting. 

73 


The  vesture  of  each  curving  bank 
Is  rapture  for  the  seeking  vision, 
And  all  the  verdant  fields  are  rank 
With  star-gems  set  with  lax  precision. 

The  air  with  purity  is  rife, 
Its  lightest  touch  is  benediction; 
The  zephyrs  vie  in  friendly  strife 
Caressing  with  their  sweet  connection. 

And  now  'tis  filled  with  vibrant  notes 

By  happy  songsters,  joyous  singing; 

Ethereal  fragrance  on  it  floats 

From  out  each  flowering  heart  upspringing. 

Fair,  tiny  shapes  on  lightest  wing 

In  seeming  aimlessness  are  flitting, 

Yet  ever  graceful  action  bring — 

Ev'n  thus  their  share  of  joy  transmitting. 

Before  these  gifts  divinely  fair 
Kind  nature  in  thy  garden  teeming, 
We  lose  the  burden  of  our  care 
For  peace  from  every  nook  is  beaming. 

The  soul  hath  chord  in  dull  attune 
That  stirs  not  with  unwonted  feeling, 
As  o'er  it  flows  the  breath  of  June 
With  all  the  sweetness  of  its  healing. 


74 


MORNING. 

Lo !  the  East  is  paling,  heralding  the  dawn, 

Soon  will  night's  enshrouding  be  from  earth  withdrawn; 

Then  will  it  awaken,  myriad  eyes  will  ope, 

Pulses  stir  and  quicken  strong  with  tasks  to  cope ; 

Now  'tis  brooding  silence,  all  the  earth  is  still, 

And  its  dormant  forces  wait  the  morning's  will. 

Hark!  from  leafy  covert  comes  a  matin  note, 

Soon  thanksgiving  chorus  will  on  ether  float. 

Now  morn's  hosts  advancing  press  receding  night 

And  her  starry  splendor  pales  'fore  coming  light. 

Cloudlets  slowly  drifting,  tinged  with  rosy  hue, 

Are  as  avant  banners  telling  morn  is  due. 

Golden  lights  are  spreading  o'er  the  Eastern  sky 

And  earth's  beacon  summits  signal  "Morn  is  nigh." 

Lo !  the  East  is  glowing — now  the  morn  is  here 

And  earth's  waking  millions  feel  its  blessed  cheer. 

Feel  its  breath  of  sweetness  filling  all  of  space, 

Yield  with  thrill  responsive  to  its  charmed  embrace. 

Blade  and  shrub  are  drinking  dewy  nectar  rare, 

Freshened  blooms  are  shedding  fragrance  everywhere. 

Mists  that  'bove  the  river  trace  its  winding  flow 

Stir  and  lightly  vanish  in  the  morn's  full  glow. 

All  of  earth's  creation,  bathed  in  splendid  light, 

Feels  the  morn's  renewing  after  restful  night. 

Miracle  of  morning!  age  on  age  hath  man 

Waked  to  see  and  ponder  this  divinest  plan. 


75 


THE  DIGNITY  OF  LABOR. 


In  far  off  days,  before  man's  prime, 
When  thought  was  narrow  and  obscure, 
Sweet  labor  seemed  the  curse  of  time 
And  hapless  man  must  needs  endure. 

Its  fateful  brand  was  in  the  sweat 
That  from  the  toiler's  brow  would  roll, 
As  he  in  travail  paid  the  debt 
Imposed  on  each  disfavored  soul. 

A  story  of  most  wondrous  might, 
With  range  as  wide  as  all  of  earth, 
Yet  truth,  today,  is  more  in  light 
Than  when  this  ancient  tale  had  birth. 

'Tis  like  that  the  parental  clan 
Outspreading  as  th'  encircling  wave, 
Fair  Eden's  borders  far  o'er-ran 
And  on  less  fertile  spaces  gave. 

For  effort  then  was  greater  need, 
Each  impulse  of  advancing  thought 
Made  want  to  grow  beyond  the  meed 
Where  nature  unassisted  wrought. 


76 


Thus  early  did  life's  toil  begin 

When  for  earth's  bounty  man  was  tasked, 

And  from  her  bosom  strove  to  win 

The  favor  she  once  gave  unasked. 

And  further  on,  in  sterner  years, 
When  smooth  tradition's  tale  was  told, 
Some  wearied  soul,  through  mist  of  tears, 
The  new  contrasted  with  the  old. 

From  thence  through  ages  dark  with  woe, 
When  most  were  subject  to  the  few, 
Fair  labor  in  the  dust  was  low 
And  naught  but  curses  seemed  its  due. 

In  nobler  view  'tis  heaven's  decree 
That  toil  by  rugged  path  shall  rise, 
And  where  conditions  harder  be 
It  there  shall  win  its  grandest  prize. 

Here  farthest  progress  can  be  found, 
And  all  man's  best  of  heart  and  brain 
Doth  here  in  greatest  share  abound, 
With  promise  for  increasing  gain. 

Not  ban,  but  blessing  here  hath  part — 
The  home  wherein  contentment  sings, 
The  growing  grace  of  mind  and  heart 
And  all  the  joy  that  comfort  brings. 


77 


Thus  all  the  richest  store  of  earth, 
Though  first  for  man  profusely  planned, 
Comes  through  the  patient  toiler's  worth, 
Relies  on  toil's  sustaining  hand. 

And  in  the  years  that  lie  beyond 
Ev'n  to  the  future's  latest  call, 
Will  toiler  be  conserving  bond, 
And  toil  be  corner  stone  of  all. 


78 


WHY  DO  I  LOVE  THEE? 

Why  do  I  love  thee,  sweet?    How  can  I  tell 
Whence  comes  the  breeze  with  its  murmuring  swell? 
Or  whence  the  charm  in  the  breath  of  the  fields 
When  summer  her  favor  most  lavishly  yields  ? 

Or  tell  when  the  rays  of  life-giving  light 

Are  flooding  all  space  with  their  radiance  bright, 

How  mightiest  hand  their  potence  distils, 

Or  what  the  alembic  the  purpose  fulfills? 

How  can  I  tell  whence  the  longing  soul  came, 

Or  measure  the  space  from  life's  spark  to  its  flame? 

How  trace  to  its  source  the  masterful  will 

Or  show  ultimate  place  these  functions  will  fill? 

How  can  I  tell  what  the  ether  waves  are  ? 
Can  I  lay  bare  the  secret  of  one  fair  star? 
Can  I  but  marvel  at  tint  of  the  flower 
And  in  reverence  bow  to  manifold  power? 

I  see  that  these  are,  haply  aeons  have  been, 

I  feel  that  love  is  and  to  them  is  akin, 

But  purpose  and  source  are  veiled  from  my  sight 

As  mists  of  the  morning  obscure  mountain  height. 

Yet  though  I  blindly  attain  toward  life's  goal, 
Unable  to  fathom  the  deep  of  one  soul, 
This  one  thing  I  know,  whatever  may  greet, 
That  I  love  thee,  my  own ;  yes,  love  thee,  my  sweet. 

79 


TO  H. 

Swift  passing  years  above  thy  brow 

Have  placed  the  signet  of  life's  prime ; 

If  I  could  roll  them  backward  now 

To  happy  days  of  Love's  springtime, 

I  yet  should  pause — 'twould  make  as  naught, 

Within  sweet  memory's  treasured  scroll, 

The  fragrance  that  our  lives  have  caught 

As  we  have  journeyed  soul  with  soul. 


80 


MIDSUMMER. 

Sunlight  shimmering  on  the  leaves, 
Wild  flowers  nodding  to  the  breeze, 
Cloudlets  drifting  high  above, 
Songbirds  trilling  notes  of  love. 

Streamlet  murmuring  on  its  way ; 
Tiny  wings  in  happy  play, 
Stately  reeds  with  bended  heads, 
Touch  of  grace  that  summer  sheds. 

Forest  aisles,  roofs  interlaced, 
Burnished  lake  with  islets  spaced, 
Grassy  mead  to  billows  stirred, 
Upland  slope  with  grazing  herd. 

Sky  o'erarching,  azure  hue, 
Blends  with  all  the  charm  of  view, 
Purple  summit,  verdant  dale, 
Over  all  is  summer's  trail. 

Air  inviting,  fragrance  filled 
Hath  the  summer  lavish  willed, 
Cooling  zephyrs,  fervid  rays — 
Joyous  are  midsummer  days. 


81 


MIGHTIEST. 

O  fair  and  gracious  Spirit ! 
With  naught  of  change  or  fear, 
The  charm  of  Thy  sweet  presence, 
Like  rare  and  subtile  perfume, 
Lingers  forever  near. 

Along  earth's  wide  expanses 
No  limits  rise  'gainst  Thee ; 
Touching  life's  crowded  centers, 
Smiling  from  secret  places 
Thou  quicken'st  land  and  sea. 

Beyond  this  world  Thou  movest 
With  swift  unmeasured  pace, 
Invading  breathless  silence, 
Flooding  with  light  celestial 
The  boundless  deeps  of  space. 

Not  all  the  orbs  unnumbered, 

Or  endlessness  of  time 

Can  dim  Thy  flame  eternal — 

With  sweetest  notes  Thou'rt  sounding 

Ever  a  chord  sublime. 

Shall  then  ev'n  one  heart  falter 
Or  lonely  feel,  and  small, 
When  Love,  divinest  essence 
Of  all-pervading  ether, 
Makes  it  akin  to  all? 

82 


MY  GIFT. 

A  little  flower  to  me  was  given, 

I  placed  it  deep  within  my  heart; 

By  its  pure  touch  my  soul  was  shriven — 

I  cherished  it  with  loving  art. 

It  grew  in  strength,  with  graceful  form, 
Its  clinging  tendrils  reaching  wide — 
Naught  presaged  of  a  coming  storm, 
Sweet  peace  with  me  did  yet  abide. 

The  dewy  freshness  of  its  bloom 
Gave  fragrance  to  my  life  each  day — 
I  had  no  thought  for  earthly  doom, 
My  treasure  safely  guarded  lay. 

Ah !  woful  time,  life  waning  fast 
The  floweret  drooped  its  lovely  head ; 
O'erwhelmed,  benumbed,  I  woke  at  last — 
My  gift  and  heart  were  with  the  dead. 


83 


O  NOT  HOW  WITH  BELOVED 
TO  PART. 


Once  more  the  season's  changeful  round 
Hath  graved  its  record  on  my  heart, 
New  lessons  taught,  with  meaning  sound, 
But  not  how  with  beloved  to  part. 

Thus  there  is  ever  pain  and  void 
Though  duty's  call  be  heeded  well, 
Life's  joy  with  sorrow  is  alloyed 
As  fancy  weaves  its  darker  spell. 

And  yet  we  trust  that  unseen  hand 
Directs  the  path  grief's  footsteps  trace, 
Guides  soul  bereft  beside  the  strand, 
Through  pain  of  loss  adds  richer  grace. 

Does  not  that  little  spot  of  earth, 
Of  all  kind  mother's  breast  most  dear, 
To  sweetest  flowers  give  lavish  birth 
Though  watered  by  the  mourning  tear? 

Yea !  summer  flowers  above  it  bloom, 
Yet  wintry  winds  around  it  cope, 
And  now  indeed  it  seems  a  tomb, 
Now  vantage  ground  for  brightest  hope. 


84 


Alone,  beneath  the  silent  sky, 
My  soul  oft  strives  to  pierce  the  vail, 
On  loved  one  calls  with  longing  cry — 
Naught  but  the  silence  greets  my  hail. 

And  yet  I  would  have  sweet  accord 
With  Him  who  knows  both  mind  and  heart- 
Thou  hast  not  made  it  easy,  Lord, 
For  us  from  well-beloved  to  part. 


sr, 


LONGING. 

If  Thou  could'st  grant,  O  Heart  of  Love ! 
As  boon  what  to  my  thought  hath  clung, 
That  dearest  hands  from  heights  above 
Might  touch  the  chords  by  memory  strung ; 

Might  stir  the  music  that  had  birth 
When  hope  was  highest,  life  most  fair, 
Familiar  strains  refined  of  earth 
To  tell  us  of  the  loved  ones  there. 

What  joy  to  feel  an  answering  thrill 
For  hearts  bowed  low  with  grief  and  pain ; 
To  know  they  too  remember  still 
If  ours  be  loss  and  theirs  be  gain. 

We  touch  the  strings  and  silent  weep, 
With  no  response  save  whelming  thought ; 
If  they  the  mystic  strands  could  sweep 
O  God !  what  miracle  were  wrought. 

Forgive,  dear  Lord!   Thou  knowest  best 
What  well  befits  this  mortal  sight, 
And  yet  we  have  this  strange  unrest, 
This  longing  for  unclouded  light. 


86 


VAIN  REGRETS. 

If  I  might  in  her  presence  be  once  more, 

To  hear  the  music  of  her  happy  voice, 

Feel  her  warm  clasp  as  in  the  days  of  yore — 

O  well  beloved !     Star  of  my  youthful  choice — 

And  see  love's  beacon  shining  in  her  eyes 

As  when  some  near  one  held  their  fond  surprise, 

'Twould  dearer  be  to  me  than  aught  below 

For  with  my  joy  she  my  regrets  could  know. 


87 


THE  PASSING  YEAR. 


Behold  the  passing  of  the  year ! 
On  swifter  wing  life's  cycle  flies, 
While  hope  a  lowering  pinion  tries 
As  chastened  vision  sees  more  clear. 

Yet  if  hope  speeds  in  onward  course 
With  less  of  errancy  in  aim, 
Life  is,  in  essence,  still  the  same 
As  when  'twas  near  unto  its  source. 

The  constant  sun  still  flames  the  East, 
Marks  high  the  noon  then  sinks  to  rest 
Into  the  bosom  of  the  West, 
As  when  life's  tide  was  at  its  least. 

Adown  the  rapid  slope  of  time 
Have  myriad  creatures  wended  way, 
And  perished  with  their  little  day — 
A  morning,  eve,   and  mid-day  prime. 

'Tis  man  alone  of  all  the  host 
Hath  kept  such  record  of  the  past 
As  makes  him  first  who  is  the  last, 
Yet  with  long  ages  for  his  boast. 


88 


And  thus  he  gropes  within  his  span 
Less  blindly  than  his  early  sires, 
His  wider  vision  breeds  desires — 
The  larger  want  the  broader  man. 

Withal  he  can  but  dimly  see 

Into  the  seeming  void  before, 

'Gainst  which  his  longing  soul  beats  sore 

With  vainest  strivings  to  be  free. 

And  thus  he  leans  in  weakness  sheer 
On  subtile  force  he  hath  named  hope, 
That  can  with  darkest  fancies  cope, 
Transforming  doubt  to  faith  and  cheer. 

It  lifts  him  into  purer  space, 
And  though  oft  devious  be  the  way 
And  oft  his  tired  feet  may  stray, 
He  keeps  with  courage  to  the  race. 

And  oft  for  him  the  wayside  blooms 
While  sweetest  fragrance  fills  the  air, 
Anon  he  plucks  a  blossom  fair 
And  happiness  around  him  looms. 

He  decks  fair  memory's  halls  with  green, 
And  twines  each  wreath  with  happy  thought, 
With  friendship  and  with  love  enwrought — 
Oft  withered  chaplet  falls  between. 


89 


Ev'n  thus  the  fruitage  to  the  sod, 
'Tis  but  transition's  passing  form — 
The  forest  wastes  before  the  storm 
But  nothing  can  be  lost  to  God. 

Whence  man  hath  come  or  whither  goes 
Is  knowledge  that  he  cannot  share, 
But  he  hath  hope  to  front  despair, 
And  faith  that  can  surmount  all  woes. 

And  he  hath  love  the  way  to  cheer, 

Hath  ideals  high  for  beacon  lights 

To  guide  him  through  those  darksome  nights 

That  ofttimes  cloud  the  passing  year. 


90 


PERENNIAL. 


Sweetheart!  canst  recall  the  day 
When  life's  springtide  pulses  flow, 
Quickened  all  our  joyous  way 
In  the  happy  long  ago? 

Dearest !  I  recall  the  hours 
In  those  fairest  days  of  yore, 
When  our  way  was  bright  with  flowers 
Gathered  from  Love's  vernal  store. 

Sweetheart !  can'st  remember  well 
How  in  heat  of  summer's  noon 
Striving,  we  did  bravely  dwell, 
Cheered  the  while  by  richest  boon? 

Dearest!  'tis  to  me  as  clear 
As  Love's  sweet  tale  newly  told, 
How  we  strove  without  a  fear 
While  the  noontide  round  us  rolled. 

Sweetheart!  callest  thou  to  mind 
How  with  autumn's  changing  hue, 
Love  our  hearts  did  closer  bind 
Seeing  each  the  other's  due? 


91 


Dearest!  'tis  my  cherished  thought 
How  in  the  declining  years, 
More  and  more  each  loving  sought 
That  for  other  come  no  tears. 

Sweetheart !  can  the  winter's  snow 
On  our  treasure  cast  its  chill, 
If  within  our  hearts  aglow 
Love  is  truly  vernal  still? 

Dearest!  thou  my  choice  of  old! 
Still  my  faith  doth  brightly  shine — 
What  to  us  is  winter's  cold? 
Thou  art  mine  and  I  am  thine. 


92 


BUCKLIN  HILL. 


Fair  lies  that  rural  town  whose  people  once  proclaimed 
Its  freedom,  with  a  zeal  in  local  annals  famed; 
And  if  a  wiser  thought  its  union  did  decree 
So  lightly  rests  the  bond  its  people  still  are  free.* 

In  days  that  now  are  old,  and  first  in  numbers  few, 
Here  came  strong,  hopeful  souls  to  country  fresh  and  new, 
To  rear  their  modest  hearths  and  light  the  sacred  flame, 
Live  plain  industrious  lives,  bequeath  an  honest  name. 

Within  the  winding  vales,  beside  the  river's  flow, 
Upon  commanding  slopes  o'erlooking  far  below, 
They  built  their  humble  homes,  and  with  severest  toil 
Enlarged  the  open  glades  and  broke  the  virgin  soil. 

In  blest  though  narrowed  sphere  the  housewife  plied  with 

skill, 

To  all  her  varied  tasks  brought  most  devoted  will, 
Prepared  the  simple  food,  the  clothing  each  might  need, 
And  to  each  childish  voice  gave  ever  tender  heed. 


*The  town  of  Guilford,  Vermont,  unlike  the  other  grants  in  the  state,  received 
its  charter  direct  from  the  king.  During  the  stirring  times  of  the  Revolution,  when 
the  people  of  Vermont  were  striving  for  its  independence  as  a  state,  as  well  as  aid 
ing  the  older  colonies,  the  citizens  of  Guilford  proclaimed  the  town  a  republic;  but 
they  soon  saw  the  error  of  their  way  and  joined  heartily  in  the  common  cause. 

93 


All  diligent  here  wrought  some  goodly  gain  to  show, 
Beneath  the  summer's  sun,  in  winter's  frost  and  snow, 
And  though  oft  chastened  sore  by  stern  affliction's  rod 
They  ever  steadfast  kept  a  faith  sublime  in  God. 

Upon  yon  summit's  spur,  below  the  crowning  wood, 
Erect  in  simplest  form  their  holy  temple  stood ; 
For  this  they  sacrificed,  and  on  each  sacred  day 
They  gathered  near  and  far  winding  the  upward  way.* 

And  here  the  Elder  came  to  greet  his  scattered  flock, 
In  vision  show  the  cleft  in  the  Eternal  Rock, 
To  lift  their  eyes  above  toward  everlasting  day, 
And  teach  them  how  to  keep  their  feet  within  the  way. 

A  man  of  goodly  mind,  whose  heart  with  love  o'erflowed, 
Whose  life  showed  broader  faith  than  strict  convention's 

code; 

He  gave  with  open  hand,  no  treasure  hid  on  shelf, 
In  joy  and  grief  alike  he  gave  his  best,  himself. 

Nor  stayed  his  willing  feet  if  message  came  of  need, 
Perchance  some  cheering  word,  or  haply  pious  deed, 
For  long  successive  years,  near  to  his  latest  breath, 
He  sought  to  cheer  their  lives,  to  smooth  their  way  to 
death. 


*West  Guilford  was  settled  by  Baptist  emigrants  from  Rhode  Island.  They 
erected  their  church,  the  second  in  the  town,  upon  a  spur  from  a  range  of  hills. 
Later  it  was  taken  down  and  rebuilt  in  a  more  accessible  location. 

For  many  years  this  people  were  ministered  to  by  the  Rev.  John  Bucklin,  him 
self  a  native  of  Rhode  Island,  and  affectionately  known  to  his  people  as  "The 
Elder." 

94 


Their   temple,   stained   and  worn,   for  them   was   beacon 

t  light, 

And  tired  eyes  oft  sought  the  sacred  summit's  height, 
And  oft  to  tempted  soul  it  brought  stern  duty's  call — 
Naught  now  of  all  remains  save  worn  foundation  wall. 

Fair  type  of  seeking  souls  who  loved  the  'lasting  hills ! 
Your  joys  of  earth  are  o'er,  long  past  your  mortal  ills; 
Within  yon  summit's  ken  your  bodies  peaceful  rest, 
But  in  far  grander  fane  your  souls  have  found  their  quest. 


95 


REMINISCENCE. 


As  I  look  adown  the  vista 
Toward  fair  boyhood's  morning  light, 
One  from  many  pleasing  pictures 
Oft  doth  claim  my  mental  sight. 

I  can  see  the  village  schoolhouse 
Where,  a  child,  I  first  essayed 
Footsteps  in  the  rugged  pathway 
That  no  royal  hand  hath  made. 

Nestling  close  to  foot  of  hillside, 
Shadowed  o'er  by  stately  trees, 
Stood  the  simple  shrine  of  learning 
Marked  by  sunshine,  storm  and  breeze. 

Humble  in  its  plain  externals, 
Dressed  in  coat  of  faded  red, 
With  its  blackened,  frost-worn  chimney, 
And  a  low  roofed  open  shed. 

See  the  schoolroom,  bare,  yet  cheerful 
With  associations  dear, 
Having  high,  unpainted  wainscot 
And  low  ceiling  cracked  and  sere. 


Having  small,  uncurtained  windows 
Lighting  faces  young  and  bright, 
Faces  scattered  past  recalling 
By  the  years'  resistless  might. 

And  a  floor  all  worn  and  hollowed 
By  the  tread  of  children's  feet — 
In  what  paths  do  they  now  travel? 
Roughened  way,  or  smoothly  beat? 

Crude  its  furniture  and  ugly, 
Carved  by  many  a  stealthy  knife, 
Showing  in  its  battered  surface 
Years  of  wear  by  restless  life. 

Wooden  blackboard,  seamed  and  faded, 
Rusty  stove,  a  well  tried  friend, 
Teacher's  desk  with  captured  treasure, 
All  a  charm  to  vision  lend. 

Ofttimes  did  those  bare  walls  echo 
Mimic  words  in  tones  most  bold, 
As  on  afternoon  of  Wednesdays 
Many  a  hero's  tale  was  told. 

Tales  of  chieftains,  speech  of  sages, 
Thrilling  scenes  from  fearful  wars, 
With  perchance  a  moving  story 
Of  our  blessed  freedom's  cause. 


97 


And  the  teacher,  truly  mentor 

As  she  guided  flock  along 

In  the  broadening  way  of  knowledge, 

With  a  sense  of  duty  strong. 

Oft  the  hum  of  restless  motion 
Would  to  sleep  young  eyelids  send — 
Quick  awaking,  furtive  glancing, 
Closer  o'er  the  page  to  bend. 

Then  the  recess,  joyous  frolic 
With  its  loud,  exultant  din — 
"Snap  the  whip"  and  "stump  red  lion" 
"Two  old  cat  and  my  one  in." 

Ah !  how  memory's  vision  moves  me 
As  the  best  loved  forms  return ; 
O  the  happy  days  of  childhood 
Ere  time's  call  to  lessons  stern ! 

Slowly  fades  the  cherished  picture, 
Active  duties  intervene, 
Yet  recalling  tends  to  soften 
All  the  sterner  time  between. 


SUGGESTED. 


If  it  be  true  the  world's  a  stage 
And  men  and  women  players  merely, 
Is't  reason  why  life's  mimic  rage 
Doth  touch  the  multitude  so  nearly? 

For  if  to  complex  mind  of  man 
Self  is  of  all  its  problems  chiefest, 
Why  should  he  not  seek  where  he  can 
A  lesson  get  in  time  the  briefest  ? 

Thus  since  the  record  was  begun, 
More  now  than  ever  'tis  the  fashion 
To  laugh  with  zest  at  Thalia's  fun, 
Weep  o'er  Melpomene's  mock  passion ; 

As  they  with  spirit  never  old, 

E'er  "tutored  by  their  own  discretion," 

"The  mirror  up  to  nature  hold," 

And — if  ofttimes  with  crude  expression, 

Still  "suiting  action  to  the  word" 
"The  word  as  nearly  to  the  action" — 
Show  virtue's  features  undisturbed 
And  vice  its  image  of  distraction. 


99 


As  long  as  "time  gets  out  of  joint," 
Hath  "whips  and  scorns" — "the  law's  delaying"- 
"Th'  oppressor's  wrong" — pride's  finger-point, 
And  all  life's  countless  ills  displaying, 

Thus  long  will  players  "strut  and  fret," 
Some  human  passion  deftly  rending, 
And  playwrights  will  their  part  beget, 
The  multitude  approval  lending. 


100 


VERMONT. 


How  firm  are  thy  hills,  O  beloved ! 
Thy  mountains  lift  proudly  in  air, 
Great  altars  of  freedom  unsullied 
Whose  incense  is  spirit  of  prayer. 

How  fair  are  thy  valleys,  beloved  ! 
Thy  lakes  mirror  smiles  from  above, 
And  the  songs  of  thy  brooks  are  freighted 
With  message  of  infinite  love. 

How  true  is  thy  heart,  O  beloved ! 
Through  an  hundred  cycles  of  change 
The  faith  of  thy  youth  never  wavered, 
Thy  hope  soared  on  loftiest  range. 

O  ye,  bravest  sons  of  the  mountains ! 
Whose  deeds  have  made  history  bright, 
Lives  clear  as  the  flow  of  your  fountains, 
As  kindred  we  claim  ye  by  right; 

By  right  of  the  dust  long  reposing 
Where  our  youth  turned  war's  fiery  tide, 
The  dust  later  fields  are  enclosing 
Where  our  men  for  truth  freely  died ; 


101 


Of  men  who  in  peace  were  triumphant, 
Fair  women,  whose  lives,  a  pure  flame, 
Made  blessing  to  be  more  abundant, 
Gave  honor  more  glorious  fame. 

Of  sons  who  on  alien  fields  sowing 
Have  gathered  of  laurel  and  bay ; 
The  light  from  whose  character  flowing 
Shines  bright  in  the  life  of  today; 

Of  men  and  of  women  yet  striving 
With  zeal  for  the  truth  and  the  right, 
In  valley,  on  hillside  art  thriving, 
And  strong  in  simplicity's  might — 

O  Ruler  of  men  and  of  nations  ! 
Our  hearts  cry  aloud  unto  Thee; 
Not  vain  are  time's  stern  revelations 
For  by  truth  alone  are  we  free. 


102 


BENNINGTON. 

August  16,  1777 — 1891. 

Our  manhood  cries  Hail !  to  those  fields,  near  and  distant, 

Made  sacred  in  annals  of  time  and  our  land, 

When  spirit  of  freedom  incarnate,  resistant, 

Its  birthright  of  peace  claimed  at  victory's  hand. 

In  glory  of  summer,  as  now  when  earth  renders 
Her  bountiful  increase  from  tree,  blade  and  flower, 
Death  here  gathered  harvest  from  foe  and  defenders, 
In  strife  whose  stern  issue  foretold  a  glad  hour. 

For  tyranny's  floodtide,  till  then  unimpeded, 

Here  broke  and  was  shattered  'gainst  iron-rimmed  shore, 

Then  baffled  and  sullen,  a  fragment,  receded 

To  rally  and  ravage  this  border  no  more. 

O  rarest  of  mornings !  when  peace  all  possessing, 
The  fresh  virgin  forest,  hill,  river  and  vale, 
Burst  war's  scathing  tempest,  all  order  transgressing, 
Smoke,  lightnings  and  smitings  from  merciless  hail. 

Now  furious  onset,  all  direst  confusion, 
Victorious  cheer — ah !  the  faint  dying  moan, 
Men  but  now  determined,  a  ghastly  profusion, 
Lie  dead,  but  the  cause  of  fair  freedom  hath  grown. 


103 


Again  the  dread  carnage — sweet  Love,  was  it  needful 
That  grace  of  today  come  through  bitterest  pain? 
Again  the  dread  carnage,  but  strong  hands  and  deedful 
The  banner  of  right  upbear  o'er  the  plain. 

O  never  have  conflict  and  sacrifice  languished 

As  man  hath  from  bondage  of  darkness  emerged, 

And    but    through    travailings,    with    groans    from    the 

anguished, 
Are  nations  and  states  to  their  full  greatness  urged. 

'Gainst  aught  of  neglect  our  loyalty  wages, 
Hath  here  builded  temple  to  mark  our  desire, 
A  shrine  that  shall  quicken  the  soul  in  new  ages, 
An  altar  aflame  with  the  patriot's  fire. 

A  tribute  compelling  to  glances  supernal, 
An  uplifted  thought  'bove  the  dust  mists  of  earth, 
As  firm  as  the  mountains  surrounding,  eternal, 
Clear  voice  for  the  epoch  that  gave  freedom  birth. 

Great  spirit  triumphant !  with  birthmark  of  heaven, 
Depart  not  from  this  our  beloved  heritage, 
But  ruled  by  fair  wisdom,  as  powerful  leaven, 
Possess  us,  renew  us,  our  future  engage. 


104 


THE  DUTY  OF  THE  HOUR. 

March  8,  1898. 

Up  to  the  height  of  our  manhood, 
Up  toward  our  ideals  high 
We  must  rise  in  thought,  and  in  action, 
Now  danger  is  pressing  us  nigh. 

We  in  the  race  must  be  foremost — 
Chosen  to  lead  in  the  van, 
We  bear  the  best  hope  of  the  ages 
Aloft  to  the  on-coming  man. 

Peace  lovers,  yet  strong  to  maintain 
The  way  if  duty  it  be, 
No  stain  must  we  let  to  the  birthright 
Our  fathers  brought  over  the  sea. 

Not  to  be  slothful  or  headstrong, 
Giving  and  asking  just  due, 
Our  eyes  on  the  mark  of  high  calling 
With  footsteps  and  heartbeats  both  true. 


105 


REQUIEM. 

1898. 

In  the  great  calm  our  heroes  are  resting, 
From  those  we  offered  that  men  might  be  free; 
Bravely  they  died,  the  call  not  protesting, 
Far  from  their  homes,  and  in  isles  of  the  sea. 

Sons  of  a  land  where  freedom  is  cherished, 
Jewel  by  valor  of  forefathers  won  ; 
Lo !   from  our  midst  its  light  hath  not  perished, 
Treasure  transmitted  from  father  to  son. 

Nurtured  to  dwell  on  liberty's  story, 
When  the  call  came  to  give  succor  and  save, 
True  to  their  birthright,  and  not  for  glory, 
Themselves  to  the  cause  they  manfully  gave. 

Firmly  they  stood  where  shot  and  shell  crashing 
Tore  through  the  ranks  of  humanity's  band, 
There,  in  the  shock  of  deadliest  clashing, 
Died  for  the  faith  in  a  far  distant  land. 

O  we  must  weep,  our  tears  now  are  falling, 
Though  far  from  those  forms  held  precious  and  dear- 
How  to  our  hearts  their  spirits  are  calling — 
God  of  the  ages !   O  be  to  us  near. 


106 


Culled  from  our  fairest ;  gifts  to  the  altar 
Of  Country,  with  prayer  that  men  might  be  free, 
Though  they  be  dead  our  faith  must  not  falter, 
'Twould  be  disloyal  to  those  o'er  the  sea. 

With  the  bright  flush  of  strong  manhood  glowing, 
Leaving  fair  promise  of  joys  yet  to  be, 
Bravely  they  fell,  to  all  the  world  showing 
How  men  can  die  that  others  be  free. 

Wreath  for  them  laurel,  bay  intertwining, 
Shrine  them  in  hearts  that  are  loyal  and  true ! 
In  the  great  future  their  fame  ever  shining 
Will  light  this  broad  land  as  morning  the  dew. 


WHERE  THE  WOOD  AND  WATERS 
BIDE. 

Where  the  limpid  water  laves 

Crystalled  shore  with  rippling  waves, 

Bearing  freshness  on  each  crest 

Stirred  by  breeze  from  out  the  West, 

Breeze  caressing  leaf  and  blade 

All  in  summer's  joy  arrayed, 

Wafting  spicy  odors  sweet 

From  the  forest's  dim  retreat. 

Forest  with  its  carpet  soft 

And  its  tracery  aloft, 

Where  the  songster  calls  to  mate 

And  the  sun  shafts  penetrate, 

Softly  lighting  cloist'ral  shade 

Of  the  temple  nature  made, 

Columned  with  both  strength  and  grace, 

Awesome  in  deep  reaching  space. 

Here  and  there  an  open  nook, 

Dazzling  after  dimmer  look, 

Where  the  sun  and  breezes  strive 

Keeping  all  its  heart  alive, 

Where  the  flowerets  peeping  out 

Shedding  sweetness  all  about, 

Make  a  garden  fair  and  bright, 

Yea !  a  vision  of  delight. 

108 


Where  the  cloudlet  shadows  glide 

O'er  the  lake's  inconstant  tide, 

And  yet  constant  in  its  plea 

That  'tis  ever  good  to  see, 

Even  if  by  storm  o'ercast 

Holding  to  its  beauty  fast. 

Placid  now,  a  mirror  fair, 

Invert  margin  picture  rare, 

Shifting  as  in  quick  alarm 

But  to  pose  in  newer  charm, 

As  a  lovely  maiden  coy 

Doth  her  dainty  arts  employ. 

Now  of  rudest  winds  the  play 

Its  white-crested  surges  spray 

'Gainst  its  circling  bond  of  stone 

With  a  rhythmic  monotone — 

Vivid  tints  its  face  o'erspread 

By  the  glow  of  sunset  shed, 

Changing,  deep'ning,  till  the  sun 

To  its  goal  hath  fully  won. 

Swiftly  now  its  glory  fades 

'Fore  the  night's  oncoming  shades 

As  they,  soon  to  be  its  pall, 

On  its  paling  beauty  fall — 

Save,  as  when  o'er  Eastern  height 

Comes  the  moon,  whose  chastened  light 

Bathing  all  in  silvered  fire 

Doth  a  mystic  charm  inspire — 

Here  where  joy  and  peace  abide 


109 


By  the  water's  freshened  tide, 
Nestled  mid  encircling  hills 
Far  from  soul-disturbing  ills ; 
Where  the  wild  flowers  deck  the  glade 
With  their  choicest  hues  displayed ; 
Where  the  tiny  wood  folk  thrive 
And  in  sportive  action  strive ; 
Where  the  zephyrs  breathe  their  hymn 
Through  the  aisles  of  forest  dim, 
Here  doth  nature  lavish  greet 
Her  fond  lovers  as  they  meet ; 
Welcomes  to  her  biding  fair, 
Haven  from  perplexing  care. 


110 


UTHER  TO  IGRAINE. 

Igraine,  them  with  red-gold  tresses, 
Silken  fetters  hearts  to  bind, 
How  the  sunlight  soft  caresses 
All  their  meshings  deftly  twined. 

Crown  of  beauty,  o'er  bright  fancies 
By  thine  eyes  and  lips  conveyed — 
Knowest  thou  thy  voice  and  glances 
Have  my  heart  a  captive  made  ? 

And  that  thy  bewitching  graces, 
Lightsome  as  the  zephyred  air, 
Sweet  as  summer's  flowering  faces, 
Can  my  world  make  Eden  fair? 

Yea  or  nay,  O  list  my  pleading 
As  my  heart  I  bare  to  thee, 
Let  thine  own  responsive  heeding 
Beat  with  mine  in  unity. 


Ill 


A  SOFT  ANSWER. 

As  the  pure,  sweet  balm  of  the  silent  dew 
Makes  the  smile  of  the  morning  bright  and  fair; 
As  the  breath  of  spring  stirs  the  earth  anew, 
And  brings  to  the  light  its  treasures  rare ; 

As  a  simple  flower  in  its  fresh  attire 

Is  a  mute  appeal  for  a  larger  love, 

And  as  music  sweet  can  the  mind  inspire 

With  a  thought  that  can  reach  far  up  above, 

So  an  answer  soft  to  the  vexed  soul 

May  be  healing  balm,  and  a  stirring  force ; 

Is  a  plea  for  love  from  a  higher  goal, 

And  a  thoughtful  gleam  from  a  purer  source. 


112 


STRENGTH  AND  WEAKNESS. 


Great  God!  Who  to  Thy  creature  man 
Gave  wisdom,  love  and  truth, 
That  he  might  broader  outlook  scan 
And  bless  with  larger  ruth ; 

Who  gave  him  an  expanding  mind 
That  he,  at  time's  demand, 
With  his  advancing  thought  might  find 
Where  further  Thou  had'st  planned; 

Who  hath  endowed  him  with  a  heart 
That  can  a  world  embrace, 
Yea !  touched  by  faith,  ev'n  but  in  part, 
Can  compass  boundless  space ; 

Who  giving  insight  with  his  life, 
And  boon  that  makes  life  free, 
Hath  girded  him  for  noblest  strife — 
Subduing  self  to  Thee ; 

We  thank  Thee  for  th'  enlarging  spheres 
In  his  uplifted  course, 
Where  progress  measured  by  the  years 
Proclaims,  Thou  art  the  source. 


113 


We  thank  Thee  for  life's  sweetest  ties, 
For  country  fair  and  free, 
And  for  the  precious  dust  that  lies 
As  bond  for  liberty ; 

And  yet  as  infants  in  Thy  sight 
Do  we  our  favor  ask — 
O  give  us  courage  and  the  light 
For  earth's  appointed  task. 


114 


THE  MYSTIC  WEB. 

It  came  at  first  as  a  casual  thought 
In  calm  of  night  when  sleep  was  coy, 
How  like  is  this  life  to  a  fabric  wrought — 
Commingled  threads  of  pain  and  joy. 

A  mightiest  web!  oft  with  edges  frayed, 
Warp  and  woof  of  lives  that  have  crossed 
Since  when  man's  prototype  purposeless  strayed, 
And  on  the  surge  of  chance  was  tossed. 

Since  that  fateful  morn  in  the  hoary  past 
When  conscious  man  with  lifted  head, 
On  the  measureless  shore  of  time  was  cast 
No  more  to  walk  with  aimless  tread. 

Not  rarest  product  of  the  finest  loom, 
Marvelous  work  of  fingers  deft, 
Can  equal  this  web  of  blessing  and  doom 
Wrought  of  the  living  warp  and  weft. 

How  it  stretches  back  into  formless  mists, 
Here  broadening  out  as  life  ran  high, 
There  drawing  close  with  narrowing  lists — 
O  wondrous  maze  of  laugh  and  sigh. 

Forever  changing  in  pattern  and  shade, 
No  threads  alike  in  all  the  round, 
Colors  unblending  and  others  that  fade — 
Brightest  tints  with  the  dark  abound. 

115 


Here  is  a  film  of  the  daintiest  sheen, 
Beautiful  ray  of  tender  light, 
And  here  another  with  sturdier  mien 
Strong  and  firm  in  its  virile  might. 

Look  well  at  this  texture !  how  smooth  and  fair ! 

Behold  that  reef  of  tangled  skeins ! 

And  oft  doth  appear,  in  unsightly  share, 

The  marring  shade  of  inwrought  stains. 

The  dazzling  course  of  some  mightier  strand 
Now  spans  the  magic  breadth  across, 
With  firm  effect  of  a  strengthening  band 
Or  marked  by  shreds  of  waste  and  loss. 

The  busy  shuttle  is  never  at  rest, 
Back  and  forth  with  remorseless  zeal, 
Now  bearing  a  soul  on  an  errant  quest, 
Now  at  a  higher  goal's  appeal. 

Round  after  round  as  the  cycles  have  spun 
Have  seen  this  matchless  fabric  grow, 
In  the  dun  of  night,  'neath  the  shining  sun, 
With  changeful  hues  of  joy  and  woe. 

Is  it  vain  to  hope  that  on  fairer  field, 
In  brighter  light  as  ages  wane, 
The  unceasing  loom  will  give  finer  yield 
With  less  of  loss  from  break  and  stain? 


116 


CREDO. 


Teach  me,  Our  Father !      Source  of  life ! 

If  more  my  duty  be, 
Than  under  burden  of  earth's  strife 

To  rest  my  soul  in  Thee. 

Thou  art  supreme,  and  madest  man 

In  wisdom's  might  to  grow, 
And  find  within  his  broader  span 

More  of  Thyself  to  know. 

He  did  not  grasp  in  sudden  gleam 

All  truth  in  ages  gone, 
It  is  for  him  a  widening  stream 

Forever  flowing  on. 

I  see  how  unities  of  thought 

Have  wondrous  courses  run, 
Since  man  by  inspiration  taught 

The  record  first  begun. 

That  deathless  instinct  of  the  soul 

Which  longs  for  clearer  sight, 
Hath  made  strange  pathways  toward  a  goal 

Of  everlasting  light. 


117 


Sincere  did  ancient  prophet  raise 

The  sacrificial  knife, 
In  his  rude  thought  'twas  highest  praise 

To  give  beloved's  life. 

But  now,  O  deep  in  hearts  enshrined 
Is  Love's  consummate  flower, 

Who  gave  himself  for  sake  of  kind, 
To  man  earth's  richest  dower. 

And  brightly  glows  through  many  a  rift 

On  dark  historic  line, 
This  love  that  is  from  love  the  gift, 

That  makes  man  child  divine. 

Whichever  way  my  footsteps  keep 
Beside  earth's  chance  and  change, 

O'er  toil-won  height,  through  misty  deep, 
Along  life's  smoother  range, 

I  lift  my  thought  to  truth  and  love, 

To  them  my  hope  can  dare, 
Where'er  they  are,  below,  above, 

I  feel  that  Thou  art  there. 


118 


SONNETS. 


TO  A  WATER  LILY. 

Whence  is  the  birthright  of  thy  mystic  charm 
Thou  wondrous  vision  of  perfected  grace, 
Whose  fragrance  from  the  unknown  deeps  of  space 
Suggests,  in  breath  divine,  a  heaven  of  calm? 
Hath  some  pure  soul,  avoiding  earthly  harm, 
The  blighting  wrack  from  sin's  destroying  pace, 
Leaving  behind  life's  unregretted  race, 
Into  thy  bosom  breathed  its  grateful  psalm? 
Rather  from  out  sweet  love's  creative  smile, 
Beyond  the  marge  that  earth  from  heaven  divides, 
A  spirit  fair  hath  come,  unknown  of  guile, 
And  deep  within  thy  glowing  heart  abides — 
Across  its  path  no  mortal  ill  hath  lain 
And  on  its  beauty  is  no  trace  of  pain. 


121 


TO  ONE  WE  LOVED. 

Thy  rarest  smile,  that  'twas  our  joy  to  meet, 

Our  colder  pulses  stirred  to  quicker  flow ; 

Thy  cordial  clasp  and  kindly  word  did  throw 

Warm  cheer  around,  as  when  the  sun  doth  greet 

The  day  new  born.      Thy  ripening  life  was  sweet 

With  grace.   'Twas  strength  for  hope  and  faith  to  know 

Thy  native  worth,  with  added  force  and  glow 

From  cultured  mind  and  heart — a  man  complete. 

'Neath  time's  rough  tide  a  swimmer  strong  goes  down, 

This  loved  one  from  our  midst,  who  breasting  well, 

Yet  sinks  with  prize  the  well  beloved  gains : 

Ev'n  thus  our  voided  hearts  are  as  a  crown 

To  his  nobility :  our  griefs  the  swell, 

In  minor  strain,  to  song  where  peace  obtains. 


122 


A  BIRTHDAY. 

From  the  maze  of  memory's  crowded  halls 
A  birthday  comes,  of  the  sweet  long  ago ; 
When  life  was  bright  with  love  and  hope  aglow, 
And  had  not  felt  the  anguished  stroke  that  palls 
Its  zest ;  the  summons  from  the  deep  that  calls 
Imperative,  nor  heeds  the  blinding  woe 
That  rudely  whelms  the  tranquil  overflow 
Which  from  the  unscathed  bosom  lightly  falls. 
O  freighted  day!     filled  full  with  joyous  life, 
And  softly  thrilled  by  all  love's  tender  fears ; 
Undreamt  of  then  the  swiftly  coming  strife, 
The  somber  cloud  of  darkened  after  years : 
O  day  with  fond  remembrance  ever  rife — 
Sweet  vision  fading  in  a  mist  of  tears. 


123 


FLOWERS  OF  CONDOLENCE. 

O  fairest  gift !   Not  tribute  to  a  king, 
But  love's  sweet  tender  to  a  flitting  soul, 
Soaring  beyond  this  mortal  "bank  and  shoal" 
Where  naught  of  earth  save  love  and  hope  can  cling. 
O  fragrant  gift !    It  is  to  kindly  bring 
Some  hint  of  hearts-ease,  when  across  life's  goal 
The  funeral  bells  a  solemn  passing  toll, 
For  heaven's  own  smile  hath  touched  each  petaled  ring- 
Sore  spirit  wounded  through  thy  dearest  love, 
O'erwhelmed  with  grief  that  time  alone  can  'suage, 
When  shines  for  thee  no  guiding  star  above 
May  these  fair  gifts  thy  brooding  thought  engage — 
And  thus  we  wreath  o'er  earth's  most  precious  clay 
These  sweet  suggestions  of  a  brighter  day. 


134 


TO  WILLIAM  CULLEN  BRYANT. 

O  rare,  kind  poet  of  our  woods  and  fields ! 
Thy  spirit  breathes  of  fresh  and  purest  things, 
Of  summer's  growth,  of  happy  life  that  sings, 
And  all  that  earth  as  loving  tribute  yields. 
Yet  in  its  graver  mood  thy  music  wields 
A  potent  charm,  as  when  it  loudly  rings 
With  freedom's  cry ;  or  its  stern  challenge  flings, 
And  all  of  lowly  weakness  bravely  shields. 
Thy  muse  toward  shadowed  vale  did  early  trend, 
To  speak  as  from  its  depths  some  soothing  word, 
And  show  how  nature  doth  harmonious  blend 
Successive  ages  that  her  heart  hath  stirred. 
O'er  all  thy  work  sustaining  hope  hath  smiled, 
And  gracious  peace  hath  shed  a  luster  mild. 


125 


TO  HIS  MAJESTY— R.  A.  B. 

But  late  from  God,  now  on  his  mother's  arm, 

His  little  head  soft  pillowed  'gainst  her  breast, 

His  tender  lips  unto  life's  fountain  prest — 

I  gaze  with  awe  on  this  divinest  charm. 

Sweet  and  ineffable  the  holy  calm 

That  broods  within  the  temple  of  his  rest, 

And  reverent  I  pray  that  all  life's  best 

May  from  his  future  keep  the  blight  of  harm. 

O  miracle  of  life !    O  heart  of  God ! 

That  gave  to  hapless  earth  this  precious  love, 

To  cheer  the  narrow  path  by  mortals  trod, 

And  lift  the  longing  soul  to  hope  above — 

Soothed  by  the  rhythm  of  the  heart  throbs  deep 

Nor  doubt  nor  fear  besets  his  peaceful  sleep. 


126 


FAINT  HEART. 

I  seek,  distraught  with  love,  the  favored  home 

Wherein  she  dwells,  sweet  spirit  of  the  place, 

Informing  all  by  her  transcendent  grace. 

If  hence  no  more  my  laggard  feet  might  roam — 

O  dearest  heart !  for  me  a  sealed  tome — 

If  boldly  I  might  stand  before  her  face 

And  in  its  rare,  delighting  beauty  trace 

The  love-lit  flame,  my  hope  would  crown  heaven's  dome. 

But  ah !    "I  dare  not"  waits  as  oft  before, 

And  she  the  while  moves  with  serenest  air 

Unconscious  all  of  my  most  tender  mood ; 

Yet  stay  my  heart !   she  hath  quick  eye,  and  more 

Hath  wit  and  pity  too — Great  Heaven !     how  fair — 

Perchance  all  mine  and  waiting  to  be  wooed. 


127 


ITALY. 

O  sunny  land !  beneath  the  bluest  skies, 
Where  art  and  song  perfection  early  found; 
Whose  ancient  law  for  wisdom's  way  renowned 
Hath  led  blind  justice  up  the  ages'  rise. 
Thy  legions  bold,  with  half  a  world  for  prize, 
Made  all  thy  virile  greatness  far  abound 
Beyond  thy  guarding  summits,  ermine  crowned, 
That  scan  as  erst  where  vine  with  olive  vies. 
Immortal  land !  long  prone  in  time's  gray  dust 
Once  more  thou  see'st  the  nations  face  to  face — 
One  draught  from  liberty's  renewing  fount 
Hath  made  thee  young  again;  O  be  thou  just, 
That  larger  wisdom  give  thee  added  grace 
As  up  new  paths  of  progress  thou  shalt  mount. 


128 


VIVE  LA  REPUBLIQUE ! 

Fair  land  of  romance!  of  paladin  bold, 
All  the  mystic  court  in  the  great  king's  reign ; 
O  glorious  land !  yet  glory  with  stain, 
Trailed  in  the  dust  since  the  days  that  are  old. 
Yea !  paled  through  oppression  by  pride  and  gold, 
Through  the  voiceful  blood  of  innocent  slain, 
Through  murderous  rage  when  thy  repressed  pain 
Made  thy  burdened  heart  grow  hard  and  cold — 
Lo !  on  the  upheaved  ruin  of  past, 
Evolved  from  the  throes  of  hungering  life 
Thou,  a  new  birth,  to  the  nations  art  cast 
Full  grown  and  equipped  for  peace  or  for  strife — 
When  wisdom  thy  lilies  with  love  shall  twine 
Thy  glory,  renewed,  far  brighter  will  shine. 


129 


AS  IT  IS  IN  NATURE. 

Loosed  from  fierce  winter's  grasp  fair  Earth  lies  dead, 

And  to  the  cold  impassive  form  still  clings 

A  wasting  cerement :  the  wild  wind  sings 

A  mournful  requiem,  while  overhead 

The  sad  clouds  droop,  and  on  the  mother  shed 

Soft  tears :  Ev'n  here  the  solemn  presence  brings 

Its  wonted  gloom,  and  o'er  the  body  flings 

The  pall  of  brooding  silence,  Earth  lies  dead. 

Behold  the  miracle !     To  grander  course 

Inclined,  the  orb  of  light  stirs  pulses  new 

And  vivifies  afresh  the  dormant  clod; 

The  mother  smiles  ;  thrilled  by  the  mighty  force 

Her  quickened  heart  yields  its  transforming  hue, 

And  all  is  joyous  uplook  unto  God. 


130 


LAKE  SPOFFOKD. 

Chesterfield,  N.  H. 

Fair  jewel  mid  bold  setting  of  the  hills! 

A  verdured  bond  that  holds  in  close  embrace 

Thy  lovely  form.     Within  whose  shaded  space 

Is  reared  the  rustic  cot,  where  far  from  ills 

The  nature  lover  finds  the  peace  that  fills 

His  soul.    Whence  he  can  view  thy  winning  grace 

In  special  charm,  or  concrete  beauty  trace 

As  he  in  all  pervading  gladness  wills. 

Now  in  thy  placid  bosom  dipping  oar, 

Or  'bove  wind-ruffled  surface  spreading  sail, 

He  finds  each  day  a  joy  unknown  before 

As  nature  gives  her  glorious  All-hail ! 

O  jewel  fair!  thou  yieldeth  such  delight 

The  happy  hours  pass  in  unnoted  flight. 


131 


TWENTY-ONE. 

Upon  the  threshold  of  young  manhood's  door, 
Gazing  upon  the  promise  richly  hued, 
O  be  thy  mind  with  virtue  well  imbued 
That  'bove  the  mean  and  sordid  it  may  soar ; 
And  if  thy  lot  be  in  the  whirl  and  roar 
Where  interests  clash  and  selfish  aims  intrude, 
Where  right  by  misty  vision  oft  is  viewed, 
May  truth  into  thy  soul  its  radiance  pour; 
Or  if  thy  way  shall  lowly  be,  obscure 
As  men  do  judge,  but  God  alone  doth  know, 
Obey  thou  duty's  call,  thy  heart  keep  pure, 
This  is  success  that  naught  can  overthrow. 
Set  high  the  ideal  in  thy  morning's  dream, 
And  breast  with  hope  the  current  of  life's  stream. 


132 


TO  A  FRIEND  AFAR. 

"Tis  not  alone  the  sympathetic  bond, 

Which  to  its  fellows  links  the  human  heart, 

That  binds  us  unto  thee.    'Tis  broader  tie, 

For  thou  hast  been  both  friend  and  teacher  wise ; 

And  oft  to  us  hath  brought,  with  helpful  cheer, 

The  living  water  of  eternal  truth. 

That  rarest  veil,  which  from  the  common  gaze 

Shields  inner  temple  of  this  mortal  shrine, 

We  lifted  high  for  thee,  and  face  to  face, 

Thou  looked  upon  our  weakness  and  our  strength. 

Our  sweetest  joys  stirred  in  thy  kindly  heart 

An  answering  chord,  and  for  our  bitter  griefs 

The  gentle  stream  of  all  thy  pity  flowed — 

O  blest,  indeed,  has  been  this  tie  that  binds ! 


133 


THE  GUEST. 

Love,  waited  guest,  tapped  shyly  at  my  door, 
Bade  enter,  came  with  most  bewitching  smile, 
With  more  of  dainty  grace  and  artless  wile 
Than  I  had  dreamed  of  in  the  days  before. 
Dear  Love,  I  said,  thee  have  I  needed  sore, 
But  now  thy  charming  presence  wilt  beguile 
The  passing  hours,  thy  sweet  voice  reconcile 
My  heart's  unrest  it  in  thy  absence  bore. 
I  thank  thee,  Love,  that  thou  bring'st  to  my  life, 
In  thine  own  self  with  ministries  most  sweet, 
A  joy  that  banishes  all  warring  strife 
And  in  my  heart  makes  earth  and  heaven  meet. 
O  yes,  for  me  life's  sun  is  shining  clear 
For  Love,  my  guest,  abideth  ever  near. 


134 


DEPARTED. 

How  could'st  thou  leave  me,  Love,  to  wing  thy  way 

Across  the  silent  deep  to  rarer  spheres, 

Leave  me  to  face  alone  the  coming  years 

Thy  love-light  changed  for  memory's  dimmer  ray  ? 

I  miss  thee,  dear,  where'er  I  go  or  stay, 

And  when  o'ershadowed  by  reproachful  fears 

As  loneliness  with  brooding  visage  nears, 

I  walk  as  in  a  chill,  autumnal  day. 

And  yet  I  know  that  thou  would'st  fain  have  stayed, 

Thy  sweetness  lent  to  cheer  my  further  course, 

Nor  ta'en  the  flight  that  low  my  joy  hath  laid 

But  for  thy  call  from  the  eternal  source. 

0  Love  most  precious !  gone  yet  glorified, 

1  dream  of  days  when  thou  wert  by  my  side. 


135 


IN  RETROSPECT. 

I  backward  look  along  life's  trodden  way, 
Aloof  to  scan  the  joys  that  once  were  mine, 
And  haply  glean  a  sweet  for  memory's  shrine 
O'erlooked  in  fullness  of  more  perfect  day. 
And  while  my  vantage  ground  is  sere  and  gray, 
The  rearward  path  but  mete  of  life's  decline, 
Those  joys  long  past  still  grace  the  fading  line, 
Still  hold  my  heart  if  with  a  changed  sway. 
Though  time  between  hath  wove  a  filmy  vail 
That  dims  the  brightness  of  their  pristine  glow, 
Yet  forms  of  those  'twas  joy  of  joys  to  know 
Above  them  hover  o'er  the  misty  trail — 
And  lo !  remembrance  gathers  to  its  fold 
Rare  gifts  unmarked  in  the  rich  days  of  old. 


136 


ON  PUBLIC  OCCASIONS. 


AT  THE  MEMORIAL  SERVICE. 

Brattleboro,  Vermont,  May  30,  1885. 

In  the  ringing  of  time's  changes 
There  are  days  that  seem  to  give, 
In  their  sad  and  sacred  music 
Harmonies  that  ever  live. 


Deep  upon  fame's  glowing  record 
Many  mighty  names  are  graved, 
Telling  how  for  right  or  glory 
Dangers  ev'n  to  death  were  braved. 

Yet  we  search  the  scroll  but  vainly 
For  the  thousands  tried  and  true, 
Who  along  the  line  of  duty 
Passed  in  unrecorded  view — 

While  to  great  and  honored  leaders 
History  accords  just  fame, 
Let  us  chant  a  host  unnumbered, 
Lying  with  forgotten  name : 

Save  perchance  that  in  some  fond  heart 
There  is  void  that  naught  can  fill, 
And  the  face  and  form  of  loved  one 
Is  a  cherished  memory  still. 

139 


Gathered  here  in  mood  of  reverence 
Toward  our  consecrated  slain, 
We  believe  these  uncrowned  heroes 
Gave  their  lives,  O  not  in  vain. 

Whether  smote  by  fell  diseases 
Or  in  storm  of  fiery  rain, 
We  now  feel  their  sacrifices 
Were  for  all  the  future's  gain. 

In  the  peace  that  now  enfolds  us, 
With  a  reunited  land, 
Comes  to  us  the  strong  conviction 
That  His  was  the  ruling  hand. 

Is  it  not  then  meet  and  fitting 
Grateful  hearts  should  make  some  sign? 
Tenderly  speak  of  the  fallen, 
Recognize  the  hand  divine? 

May  we  ofttimes  in  the  crowding 
Of  our  busy  work  and  care, 
Stop  and  ponder  their  brave  story, 
And  of  thought  give  generous  share. 

May  we  oft  in  quiet  moments 
To  the  children  by  our  side, 
Tell  in  solemn,  tender  accents 
Of  the  cause,  and  how  they  died. 


140 


It  will  make  our  lives  more  worthy 
The  great  gain  that  was  their  loss, 
Make  their  love  a  flaming  beacon 
If  on  stormy  seas  we  toss. 

Let  us  on  bright  freedom's  altar 
Ever  keep  the  living  fire! 
Keep  the  heritage  unsullied, 
To  the  noblest  heights  aspire ! 

That  our  souls  may  catch  the  rhythm 
Of  life's  grand  heroic  theme, 
Feel  the  mighty  inspiration 
Of  its  ever  widening  stream, 

That  with  strong  resistless  volume 
Still  is  moving  for  the  right, 
Bearing  on  its  mighty  current 
To  the  ages,  strength  and  light. 

As  the  swift  recurring  seasons 
Shall  renew  this  day's  fair  scene, 
With  kind  words  and  loving  tributes 
Let  us  keep  these  memories  green. 


141 


HYMN. 

At  the  Rededication  of  the  First  Universalist  Church, 
Brattleboro,  Vermont,  December  1,  1885. 

Father  in  Heaven !  How  swift  the  years 

Since  first  this  hallowed  place, 

Was  sought  by  earnest,  longing  hearts 

To  hear  Thy  word  of  grace; 

Since  here  they  reared  their  humble  fane 

With  consecrated  zeal, 

And  tarried  in  the  holy  time 

Thy  quickening  power  to  feel. 

Accept,  O  Lord,  these  added  gifts 
Our  willing  hearts  have  brought, 
This  larger  temple  to  Thy  praise 
Our  eager  hands  have  wrought; 
Sweet  mem'ries  of  the  faithful  dead 
Still  linger  round  this  shrine, 
And  joy  and  sorrow  of  the  past 
Now  make  it  seem  divine. 

With  love  we  consecrate  anew 

This  altar  we  revere, 

Our  highest  thought,  and  brightest  hope 

To  Thee  we  offer  here ; 

And  as  in  time  to  other  hearts 

This  sacred  trust  shall  tend, 

Wilt  Thou,  O  Father,  as  before 

Thy  gracious  favor  lend. 

142 


We  ask  not  name,  or  race,  or  creed, 

But  welcome  all  who  stay 

To  hear  the  word,  to  learn  of  truth, 

Who  seek  a  better  way; 

Some  seed  may  fall  on  fertile  ground, 

Some  bruised  heart  be  healed, 

Thy  name,  O  God!  be  glorified, 

Thy  love,  O  Christ !  revealed. 


143 


AT  THE  FUNERAL  SERVICE  OF 
GENERAL  GRANT. 

In  the  Town  Hall  at  Brattleboro,  Vermont, 
August  8,  1885. 

Alone  and  on  an  ebbing  tide, 
Beyond  the  closest  mortal  ken, 
We  say  "our  honored  chief  has  died" — 
'Tis  God  hath  claimed  His  own  again. 

How  brief  the  span  of  daily  round 
Since  first  this  soul  was  launched  below, 
Since  in  its  narrow  frame  'twas  bound 
Earth's  varied  disciplines  to  know. 

Its  shelter  in  that  early  hour 
Was  love  that  seemed  almost  divine, 
And  as  it  grew  in  strength  and  power 
How  other  loves  did  round  it  twine. 

Its  morn  in  innocence  began, 
And  noon  was  flush  with  sternest  strife, 
At  eve  came  memory's  hosts  to  scan 
The  record  of  a  closing  life. 

It  shed  like  ray  from  clearest  gem 
The  luster  of  a  steady  glow, 
As  when  it  bravely  sought  to  stem 
A  turbid  current's  baneful  flow. 

144 


'Twas  manhood  spun  of  golden  thread, 
With  firmest  fiber,  warp  and  woof; 
A  leader  with  resounding  tread 
Who  from  vain-glory  stood  aloof. 

Who  scorned  to  grasp  unholy  power, 
But,  measuring  to  heroic  mould, 
Kept  even  tenor  through  each  hour 
As  surging  change  around  him  rolled. 

Yet  like  a  shadow-darkened  view 
Did  somber  gloom  his  life  enshroud, 
A  blight  had  touched  its  fairest  hue — 
For  him  a  people's  heart  was  bowed. 

'Twas  his  to  know  both  pain  and  doubt, 
This  manhood  true,  this  soul  most  rare, 
As  earthly  garment  slow  wore  out 
And  when  from  height  he  touched  despair. 

Yet  through  this  dark  and  saddened  time 
His  lips  no  murmur  e'er  essayed, 
But  patience  that  was  all  sublime 
He  with  heroic  calm  displayed. 

0  noble  soul !  whose  native  worth 
Did  circumstance  most  aptly  leaven, 
That  well  ye  proved  your  regal  birth 
Brave  deeds  proclaim  to  earth  and  heaven. 


145 


O  Mighty  Nation's  hope  and  pride ! 
Great  leader  in  a  sacred  cause! 
Thy  modesty  and  valor  tried 
Will  claim  the  future's  high  applause. 

Not  all  the  pomp  of  haughty  power, 
Or  favor  from  earth's  highest  goal, 
Can  equal  this  divinest  dower, 
A  strong,  unselfish,  faithful  soul. 

The  people  mourn  their  hero's  flight, 
And  comrades  speak  the  tender  word ; 
His  virtues  shine  in  stronger  light 
As  all  the  loyal  heart  is  stirred. 

Around  the  draped  and  sable  bier 
We  stand,  in  thought,  with  drooping  head, 
And  o'er  it  shed  the  mourning  tear 
For  him,  our  loved  and  cherished  dead. 

The  wondrous  frame  lies  calm  and  still, 
Its  cunning  hands  have  ceased  their  play, 
The  subtile  brain  hath  lost  its  will 
And  heart  of  flame  glows  far  away. 

Alone,  no  longer  could  he  bide, 
Not  mortal  skill  nor  power  could  save — 
We  say  "our  well  beloved  hath  died," 
'Tis  soul  returned  to  Him  who  gave. 


146 


AT  THE  DEDICATION  OF  THE 
SOLDIERS'  MONUMENT. 

Brattleboro,  Vermont,  June  17,  1887. 

I. 

O  rare  and  full-fraught  days ! 
That  swift  and  with  uplifted  trend 
Mark  off  the  lapsing  years: 
Now  brooding  peace  with  urgent  voice 
Calls  grateful  hearts  to  praise. 

Once  sound  of  fiercest  strife 
Sore  rent  the  quiet  summer  air, 
And  palling  smoke  obscured — 
Now  fresh  and  pure  its  wooing  touch 
Charms  nature's  throbbing  life. 

The  bright  unchanging  sun 
O'er  unscathed  homes  shines  free, 
Homes  rich  with  social  joys; 
Sweet  ministries  even  to  the  time 
Life's  waning  race  be  run. 


147 


II. 


On  that  famed  Grecian  plain 

Where  Thebes'  immortal  band  was  crowned, 

A  marble  lion  stands ; 

Though  worn  with  age  still  keeps  its  watch 

Above  heroic  slain. 

And  oft  some  builded  form 

Down  time's  e'er  broadening  vista 

Marks  era  in  its  course ; 

Great  thought  or  deed,  whose  temple  grand 

Survives  decay  and  storm. 

In  dim  relief  they  show, 

Far  in  the  realm  of  fading  past, 

The  mind's  emerging  way ; 

And  many  an  age  long  drifting  dust 

Illume  with  mystic  glow. 

III. 

O'er  this  fair  Northern  land 
New  records  of  truth's  might  arise, 
In  grateful  honor  wrought ; 
With  sternest  grace,  in  varied  form 
All  eloquent  they  stand. 


148 


They  tell  of  faith  in  kind ; 
Of  love  for  country  and  for  home 
Deep  wrought  within  the  heart; 
How  peaceful  men  for  nation's  life 
Their  sweetest  joys  resigned; 

They  tell  of  bitter  pain, 
The  weary  march,  the  battle's  reek, 
Of  wounds,  of  anguish — death; 
Of  captive  souls  benumbed  in  woe 
More  dread  than  iron  rain. 

They  tell  of  mothers'  tears ; 
The  father's  fond,  now  buried  hope, 
The  widowed,  mourning  heart ; 
Of  trembling  age  bereft  of  staff, 
Of  tender,  orphaned  years. 

Of  bonds  now  cast  away; 
Uplifted  hearts,  ennobled  souls, 
An  enslaved  race  made  free — 
Of  millions  on  whose  night  of  woe 
Dawned  ever-cheering  day. 

They  cite  heroic  deeds, 

And  show  the  sacrificial  flame 

That  lighted  sacred  cause — 

A  pregnant  cause  for  human  weal 

That  glows  as  time  recedes. 

149 


They  speak  for  faith  in  God 

Who  overrules  earth's  narrow  way 

With  broad,  eternal  truth — 

Who  meets  the  awful,  grievous  wrong 

With  scourging,  chastening  rod. 

They  ask  for  nobler  aims, 

And  point  the  way  to  fairer  fields 

Of  action  and  of  thought ; 

They  ask  for  justice,  mercy,  love — 

The  grace  that  Christ  proclaims. 


IV. 

Here  we  have  builded  ours, 

And  on  this  brave,  ancestral  day 

Have  met  to  dedicate — 

To  weave  o'er  later  hallowed  dust 

A  wreath  of  memory's  flowers. 

O  Thou  who  made  these  hills 
In  liberty  our  country  bless ! 
If  wrong  shall  yet  assail, 
Inspire  her  children  once  again 
To  banish  all  her  ills. 


150 


This  scarred  and  war-worn  throng, 
Whose  rank  fast  thinning  yet  aligns, 
For  it  we  crave  Thy  boon ; 
May  duty's  call  still  fire  each  heart, 
Its  flame  each  soul  make  strong. 


V. 


We  dedicate  it  first 
To  Freedom,  and  the  sacred  rights 
That  God  gave  unto  men ; 
Inalien  right  to  dwell  in  peace 
By  greedy  might  uncurst. 

To  undivided  States ! 

Rare  jewels  that  shall  brightly  deck 

This  mighty  nation's  brow, 

When  time  has  changed  some  false  beliefs 

And  buried  ancient  hates. 

To  brave,  devoted  men ! 

Who  from  this  honored  town  went  forth 

Rich  offering  to  the  right ; 

The  living,  and  the  martyred  throng 

That  came  not  back  again. 


151 


To  wives  and  mothers  dear ! 

Who  bade  God-speed  with  tearful  hearts 

Their  burden  cast  on  hope ; 

To  all  the  holy  memories 

That  sadden  and  yet  cheer. 

To  aspirations  bright ! 
That  crowning  man  with  highest  good 
Would  make  a  heaven  of  earth — 
A  pathway  light  with  fulgent  rays 
In  dimmest  future's  night. 


VI. 

May  all  of  truth  most  grand, 

That  clearly  speaks  from  kindred  forms, 

Inspire  our  gift  to  us, 

And  for  long  ages  may  it  tell 

Of  Freedom's  greatest  stand. 

O  let  us  oft  draw  near, 

And  in  the  shadow  of  this  shrine 

Plight  holy  vows  anew, 

To  Liberty,  to  Truth,  to  God, 

With  souls  confessed  and  clear. 


152 


HYMN. 

At  the  Dedication  of  the  Soldiers'  Monument, 
Brattleboro,  Vermont,  June  17,  1887. 

TUNE:  Consolation. — H.  M.  Dow. 

Low  in  green  fields  our  fallen  sons  lie  sleeping, 
Sweet  is  the  air  with  summer's  fairest  gifts, 
Soothed  is  the  pain,  and  dry  the  eyes  once  weeping — 
Time,  great  consoler,  e'er  the  burden  lifts. 

Peace  fair  and  gentle !  purchased  with  our  dearest, 
Let  their  devotion  e'er  engage  thy  sight 
Long  as  the  truth  to  all  pure  souls  is  nearest, 
Till  all  of  darkness  shall  be  bathed  in  light. 

Done  is  their  duty,  flame  that  ever  brightens, 
That  fired  their  brave  hearts  unto  noblest  end; 
To  us  their  hope,  their  sacrifice  now  heightens, 
Bear  it  aloft  and  forever  defend ! 


153 


HYMN. 

At  the  Dedication  of  the  Brooks  Library, 
Brattleboro,  Vermont,  January  25,  1887. 

The  donor  of  the  building,  Mr.  Geo.  J.  Brooks, 
died  one  month  before  the  dedication. 

Eternal  One !  we  gather  here 

Imperfect,  weak  yet  Thine; 

O  touch  us  with  Thy  holy  fire, 

Our  grosser  cares  refine. 

That  we  be  worthy  in  Thy  sight 

Incline  our  hearts  to  love, 

And  soothe  our  sorrow  by  the  grace 

Of  comfort  from  above. 

May  he  who  wrought  for  us  this  gift 

In  grateful  memory  live; 

In  Thy  great  bosom  find  that  peace 

Earth  ne'er  can  wholly  give — 

The  impulse  from  his  kindly  thought 

Hath  crowned  these  graceful  walls, 

Where  chastened  light  from  purer  hope 

Now  on  our  vision  falls. 


154 


O  may  this  precept  here  be  read, 
And  all  who  read  believe, 
'Tis  greater  blessing  far  to  give 
Though  precious  to  receive; 
And  as  a  flower  in  fairest  mood 
Exhales  its  fragrance  rare, 
May  wisdom's  flavor  here  bestowed 
Sweeten  life's  bitter  care. 

Almighty  Power !  may  they  who  feed, 
From  out  the  great  unseen, 
The  mighty  flowing  stream  of  thought 
E'er  keep  the  fountains  clean — 
A  beacon  set  of  lofty  truth 
O'er  time's  vast  field  to  shine, 
Guiding  Thy  children  unto  paths 
That  Thou  hast  marked  divine. 


155 


COLUMBUS. 


Read  at  the  Columbian  Celebration,  Brattleboro, 
Vermont,  October  21,  1892. 


By  subtlety  nor  might  can  favor'd  man 

Uplift  its  cryptic  veil  and  boldly  scan 

The  future's  trend ;  nor  swift,  as  to  the  fray, 

O'er-leap  its  marge  and  bend  unto  his  sway 

The  formless  force  that  daily  mouldeth  time ; 

No  way  beneath  for  him,  no  height  to  climb, 

And  if  he  calls  as  to  the  seeling  night, 

No  voice  responds,  'tis  void  of  sound  and  light. 

Yet  having  patience  with  a  dauntless  heart, 
A  mind  unswerving  from  accepted  part, 
The  path  rough-shaped  by  wayward  circumstance, 
Can  one — if  he  beyond  his  pale  will  glance 
To  scan  the  store  of  wisdom's  golden  grain, 
And  with  high  purpose  over-riding  pain — 
Such  progress  make  up  toward  the  future's  weal 
That  unborn  ages  will  his  potence  feel. 


156 


Thus  brave  Columbus  from  old  Palos  sailed 

On  mission  world  to  world ;  by  naught  unquailed ; 

Not  fortune's  frowns  or  elemental  strife 

Turned  purpose  set  that  crowned  a  kingly  life ; 

Not  base  ingratitude — unkindest  cross — 

Nor  birthright  stol'n — for  us  the  greater  loss — 

Have  dimmed  his  fame,  that  shining  down  the  years 

Four  centuries  today  acclaim  with  cheers. 

A  continent  to  find,  what  treasure-trove ! 

If  now  he  o'er  its  smiling  face  could  rove 

Through  busy  mart,  on  sea,  by  dotting  home, 

View  complex  art  and  learning's  weighty  tome, 

Ev'n  on  this  day  when  earth  with  pean  rings, 

He  would  not  reck  those  hurts  from  fortune's  slings 

That  in  a  darker  time  of  long  ago 

Broke  mighty  heart,  and  noble  head  laid  low. 

Fair  field  his  genius  to  the  ages  gave, 

Ours  to  enjoy  and  to  the  ages  save 

Unshamed ;  yea,  of  that  fair  renown  to  add 

That  comes  when  peace  life's  varied  paths  makes  glad ; 

For  this  must  all  to  earnest  aim  give  heart, 

Avoiding  pretence  and  ignoble  part, 

Keep  home  the  altar  for  love's  sacred  flame, 

And  bonded  be  in  the  Eternal  Name. 


157 


Give  toil  high  honor,  meeting  just  demand, 
For  most,  ev'n  honor,  comes  by  toiling  hand ; 
Shun  wide  luxurious  sloth  whose  wasting  breath 
Hath  nations  sent  to  an  untimely  death ; 
Put  avid  greed  far  from  the  daily  life 
That  right  may  rule  within  the  field  of  strife, 
And  noble  deeds  to  living  fire  may  fan 
All  that  is  best  in  mind  and  heart  of  man. 

Plant  those  quick  germs  within  young  fertile  hearts, 
Beside  the  growth  of  learning's  graceful  parts 
That  soon  for  freedom  and  for  country  flower, 
Sweet  two-fold  bloom  to  deck  a  future's  dower : — 
Then  will  be  seen  forever  waxing  great 
This  marvel  of  a  universal  state, 
Where  countless  peoples,  as  millenials  wane, 
Shall  toward  th'  Almighty  purpose  nearer  gain. 


Scorn  not  the  vision  of  exalted  soul, 
Its  ideal  bound  may  be  the  common  goal 
Of  later  years ;  but  few  can  win  the  height 
And  from  its  lofty  verge  with  quickened  sight 
Catch  first  the  rosy  beams  of  dawning  truth : — 
O  prescient  soul !  that  with  large-hearted  ruth, 
Upon  time's  darkened  and  uncertain  way 
Set  shining  lamp  to  guide  with  cheering  ray. 


158 


A  PILGRIMAGE. 

Read  at  the  reunion  of  the  Legislature  of  1894,  held  at 
Montpelier,  Vermont,  October  3,  1895. 

Today  'neath  freedom's  fairest  dome 
With  kindling  hearts  we  mingle, 
No  studied  scheme  or  plan  we  bring 
But  only  purpose  single. 

Each  petty  aim  is  set  aside, 
Engrossing  care  surrendered, 
Our  spirits  feel  the  quickened  thrill 
By  freer  thought  engendered. 

And  with  uplifted  sense  withal 
Is  mixed  in  modest  measure, 
An  honest  pride  in  honored  part, 
Not  least  of  all  our  pleasure. 

Whence  is  this  pilgrimage,  and  why, 
That  thus  demands  attention? 
This  great  devotion  to  its  claim — 
Our  duties'  brief  suspension. 

'Tis  bond  of  goodly  fellowship 

Hath  drawn  us  here  together, 

From  North,  from  South,  from  far  and  near 

Beyond  each  wonted  tether. 

159 


Man  cannot  live  by  bread  alone, 
The  soul  needs  some  fruition, 
And  to  exalt  its  mortal  throne 
It  must  have  recognition; 

Those  subtile  graces  of  the  mind 
God  gave  His  best  creation, 
Too  oft  are  buried  from  the  light 
'Neath  worldly  encrustation: 

As  from  the  dry  and  stony  soil 
Spring  flowers  of  rarest  beauty, 
So  life  can  have  a  fragrant  bloom 
Despite  of  rigid  duty. 

Man  wins  exalted  manhood's  crown 
Through  life's  supremest  forces, 
That  exercised  to  noblest  end 
Suggest  divinest  sources. 

Thus  we  have  met  for  mental  cheer 
And  for  the  soul's  uplifting, 
To  be  refreshed,  that  we  may  check 
Our   proneness   unto   drifting — 

But  lo !  our  fold  is  incomplete, 

The  circle  hath  been  broken, 

For  loved  ones  to  the  bourne  have  crossed 

As  God  the  word  hath  spoken: 


160 


We  cannot  clearly  see  the  way, 
The  stricken  soul  gropes  blindly, 
But  yet  we  trust  that  He  is  good 
And  all  His  law  is  kindly. 

A  decade  with  its  griefs  and  joys 
Hath  marked  the  years  fast  fleeting, 
Since  they  who  here  had  served  the  state 
Here  gave  each  other  greeting : 

Rehearsed  the  battles  lost  and  won 
On  bloodless  fields  of  striving, 
Or  listened  to  some  silvered  tongue 
Sweet  memories  reviving : 

Anon  a  seat  at  festive  board 
With  bountiful  surrounding, 
For  need  of  inner  man  supplied 
The  wit  is  more  abounding. 

O  precious  joys  of  brotherhood! 
Sons  of  one  common  mother, 
In  peace  to  clasp  fraternal  hands, 
Give  cheer  to  one  another: 

O  freighted  time !  more  blest  than  yore, 
That  myriad  hearts  are  beating 
With  impulse  toward  the  common  good, 
When  each  shall  all  give  greeting. 


161 


A  custom  our  occasion  makes, 
And  each  decennial  story 
As  time  rolls  on  should  more  disclose 
Our  Stately  Mother's  glory. 

Her  soil  is  hallowed  to  each  son; 
Upon  our  hearts  is  graven 
Her  fame  as  an  unsullied  shrine — 
Fair  Liberty's  bold  haven. 

We  love  her  green-clad  towering  steeps, 
Her  fruitful  smiling  valleys, 
The  mirroring  lake,  the  river's  sweep, 
The  mead  where  brooklet  dallies. 

Here  lie  the  ashes  of  our  sires, 
Whose  lives  graced  every  station, 
Those  brave,  heroic  souls  who  helped 
To  make  and  save  a  nation. 

And  they  who  far  on  alien  fields 
Now  peacefully  lie  sleeping, 
Their  duty  done  they  trustful  gave 
Their  hope  into  our  keeping — 

We  honor  each  included  hearth, 
Nor  matters  it  how  lowly, 
Where  love  presides  at  sacred  fire 
And  makes  the  presence  holy. 


162 


We  honor  each  God-imaged  soul, 
Nor  scan  the  social  standing, 
Where  character  hath  upward  trend, 
The  larger  life  commanding: 

May  our  ideals  be  so  high 

That  in  life's  evolution, 

We  shall  be  found  in  foremost  front 

Seeking  its  best  solution: 

That  each  by  just  desert  may  share, 
No  right  be  violated ; 
That  strength  for  weakness  will  have  care, 
By  mercy  consecrated. 

That  virile  peace  may  glory  urge 
Whose  light  all  others  paling, 
Will  make  our  mountains  for  the  world 
A  beacon  never  failing. 

It  is  a  vision,  yet  within 
The  scope  of  zeal  untiring, 
For  law  can  be  of  love,  not  fear, 
And  truth  is  all  inspiring. 


163 


EVENING  HYMN. 

Father!  comes  the  night  apace, 
And  though  darkness  shrouds  us  here, 
Children  of  the  boundless  space 
We,  akin,  feel  Thou  art  near. 

Thus  to  night's  embrace  we  yield 
Trusting  where  we  cannot  see — 
Toward  the  future's  unknown  field 
May  we  not  as  trustful  be  ? 

When  we  meet  the  morrow's  care 
May  we  keep  the  Christly  way, 
And  as  Thou  art  everywhere 
Know  afar  we  cannot  stray. 

Thou  art  Mystery  Divine! 
And  Thy  face  we  may  not  see, 
Yet  we  trust  that  we  are  Thine 
Glimpsing  of  Thy  majesty. 


164 


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